


In The Woods Somewhere

by NuclearGers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Collars, Controlling, Crossdressing, Dismemberment, Emasculation, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Humiliation, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Slave, Mutilation, Puppy Play, Ramsay is his own warning, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Showverse Characters, Starvation, Stockholm Syndrome, Threats of Animal Abuse, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 149,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearGers/pseuds/NuclearGers
Summary: Theon is kicked out of his father's home. Both his sister and best friend are away at college, and he also doesn't want to live off the Stark family anymore after having already done that for most of his young life. When he turns to his local grocer's bulletin board for help, he soon finds himself set up with the infamous Ramsay Bolton and the beautiful, remote house he resides in, both hidden away in the privacy of the fields and pines of Dreadfort Road. Things are good at first, but it isn't long before Theon discovers why he should have trusted his instincts and ran the moment he saw those icy eyes and that dangerous smile.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Hozier song of the same name.  
> This is my first Game of Thrones fic, and I apologize in advance if any of the personalities or dialogue seem wonky. I'm still getting used to writing for the boys at this point, but I hope I can keep improving things like that to make a better reading experience for all of you. (I'm admittedly a bit hesitant to post this)

Theon stood in front of the advertisement board at his local supermarket. His green eyes scanned the messy assortment of job, apartment, sale, and missing pet listings until he finally found what he was looking for; a paper reading ' _Roommate Wanted_ ', with a few details and a phone number as well. There were a few tags already torn off the bottom, but he took one of his own anyway and headed out of the store to where his bicycle was chained up.

' _Couldn't hurt to call, maybe those other three didn't work out? Or maybe the guy will need more than one roommate...?_ ' He thought to himself as he hiked his leg over to the other side of his bike. Straddling it, he fished his phone out of his back pocket and started dialing the number written on the tag. It only took a few quick rings before a cool, easy voice answered the call.

"Yes?"

"Uh, hi, yeah, hello. Is this the right number? For the, uh... the apartment guy? I mean, the guy looking for a roommate." Theon cleared his throat, always feeling a little awkward over the phone with strangers. Unless he really knew the speaker on the other end, he couldn't read them properly like he could in-person and it always seemed to throw him off a little.

"Yes, this is Ramsay. And you are...?" Ramsay's near-purring drawl sent a shiver up Theon's spine and he briefly glanced around to see if any passer-bys were looking his way, suddenly self-conscious of the mild heat in his cheeks.

He cleared his throat again and answered, this time trying to make his tone a little more casual and even. "Theon. Theon Greyjoy. I found your ad in the Reynold's just now and I was wondering if you were still looking for a roommate?"

The other man's tone seemed to sound a little cheerier, like Theon could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Yes, Theon. Theon Greyjoy," he repeated the red-head's own words, playfully mocking before continuing, "I am still looking for a roommate. We'll meet tomorrow afternoon at the coffee shop over on Flynn Street, that Gale's one, so we can talk a little."

Theon nearly sighed in relief, smiling to himself. "Yeah, yeah, that sounds great, sure!"

A chuckle. "Someone's eager. How does 1:30 sound to you? Unless, you're busy then?"

"No, man, that's perfect! Thank you, I'll see you then. Flynn Street, right?" He received an affirmative in response, and then a dial tone.

Giddy now, Theon knocked the kickstand aside and began to ride off down the road, heading back to his sister Yara's dorm. He'd been sleeping on the floor of her room for the last three days, ever since his father finally kicked him out, and Yara was getting more and more insistent on him leaving.

_"You have to go soon, Theon, my RA is getting pissy with me and I'm tired of hearing about the damn rules every time I step out of my room!"_ She seemed to be saying every five minutes.

"Well, fret no more, Yara," he huffed under his breath, pedaling his bike. "Your little brother might be out even sooner than you think thanks to some cool, good guy named Ramsay."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon was a little less nervous going into the coffee shop than he was speaking on the phone and it showed in the casual slump of his shoulders, easy gait to his step, and friendly, hopeful smile on his face. He waltzed right into the shop, even politely holding the door open for an elderly couple before striding right in and looking around over the tables. He was feeling good, feeling optimistic, and he was ready to make the best impression on this Ramsay  guy . As soon as his stare met with a pair of pale, icy blue eyes, though, all those nerves that had previously gone missing decided to make a sudden comeback. Despite  having  only spoken to this Ramsay fellow over the phone, he instantly felt like he knew who those pretty, intimidating eyes belonged to.

There was an odd feeling brewing, too; he had a sudden urge to bolt out that door, his stomach flipping as a sense of panic rose. He didn't understand why, the man appeared nice enough and not overly-creepy or anything, and they were even in public where it would be stupid for anything bad to happen. Rationale kicked in and he told himself it was probably just nerves at meeting a new person, and not just any new person but the one who would possibly be giving him his first place to live that wasn't owned by a Stark or Greyjoy. 

That explained it. Who wouldn't be twitchy and shy?

He made his way over to stranger's table a little more shyly than he meant to. He'd broken his own eye contact as he'd headed over but he was  sure the other's eyes never stopped watching  him, and  sure  enough when  he looked up again they were staring just as  wide and interested as when he came in. 

 

"Hi," he said.  "You're Ramsay, yeah?"

The other male tilted his head and raised a brow, sounding a little confused. "No? I'm sorry, friend, you've got the wrong person."

Theon blushed a little, slightly embarrassed. He thought for  sure this was the guy? The voices had even kind of sounded the same... Well , at least he hadn't swaggered  over here as  confidently as when he  came in, so he didn't look  _ as _ silly. He turned to leave, apologizing, "Oh,  er , sorry, I thought you were someone else." 

The dark-haired man at the table was quick to grab one of Theon's slim wrists, halting him. He gave a mirthful chuckle and grinned, white teeth showing. "Theon, it's me. I'm just playing with you. Sit! Would you like something to drink?"

Theon's blush deepened just a tad and he laughed a little, too, relieved. He sat  down,  his own  smile coming  back in its  big and gap-toothed way, and it made Ramsay's strange grin  grow  more.

"Yes, please, one of those s'mores-flavored things, I don't care which one. Here," he moved to pull his  walled out  of his pocket but Ramsay set a hand on his arm to stop him.

"No worries, it's on me."

"You sure?" He asked, but Ramsay was already getting up and heading to the counter to place the order. Theon drummed his long fingers on the table while he waited, glad to feel those pesky nerves ebbing away once more. Admittedly, he was worried that the man he'd be meeting today would be some  douchey , stuck-up  chump who'd delve right into the rules and  restrictions the moment they met, or that maybe he'd be some greasy, whackjob with scary folders on his computer, but so far Ramsay seemed to be nothing like what he was expecting. When Ramsay came back, Theon took his drink with a  grateful 'thank you'.

"I think we've met before, Theon," Ramsay murmured as he sipped his black coffee.

Theon glanced up, lips in an 'o' as he blew at his hot drink. The look Ramsay gave him made a small shiver tickle his spine just like the man's voice had done over the phone yesterday afternoon. He furrowed his brows, confused. " Nooo ...?  I think I'd remember you."  _ I think I'd remember those eyes... _

"Well, maybe we didn't  _ meet _ , exactly, but we did attend the same elementary school for a little while. North Elementary, Mr.  Luwin's  second grade class? You were very tall back then, tallest in the class, I remember, and very gangly, too. You always hung out with that Stark boy, too, what was his name... ah, Robb? "

The ginger thought a moment, brows furrowing more and pink lips pulling into a frown. After a moment, he attracted some startled stares as he jolted a bit and pointed at Ramsay, eyes sparkling with  recognition .  "Ramsay! Ramsay Snow, yes, yes, I remember you!"

Ramsay's smile tensed and something flashed in his eyes, but he nodded slowly. "Yes, very good, Theon," h is tone was a bit condescending, but Theon didn't seem to notice, too busy being pleased about having figured it out. 

"Man, no wonder it took me a bit, you were always of f at the principal's office or having to sit out at recess, you were hardly near me! Little Ramsay Snow, such a trouble maker, how could I forget?"

" Bolton."

"What?"

"Bolton. Is my last name. I'm no longer 'Ramsay  _Snow_ ' ." He was no longer smiling either, and something in his intense gaze made Theon shiver slightly. It hit him then that he knew Ramsay for another reason, or rather, multiple reasons. Ramsay Bolton was well-known around town for having gotten in trouble with the law on more than a  few  occasions, and he even remembered Jon mentioning having to deal with Bolton and his crew a couple of times. The boy was said be violent and unpredictable, cruel and relentless. That sounded about right for the kid he knew in second grade, but he was sure it couldn't be said for the man sitting across from him now. This Ramsay didn't seem violent or cruel or anything bad at all, at least, not in the few minutes of contact they'd had. A little strange, yes, maybe even a little unnerving, but hey, maybe it was just his unusual eyes and tone and smile, all of which were pretty intense. No, no, this Ramsay here in the coffee shop was polite and charming in his own  way, and also quiet  and  calm,  not  to mention very handsome.  Maybe the "Ramsay Bolton" everyone gossiped about was someone else, or maybe they actually  meant Ramsay  Snow  and just couldn't let go of the poor, troubled boy's past.  Had nasty little Ramsay Snow grown up to be calm, polite Ramsay Bolton?

He cleared his throat and  offered a shy smile,  awkwardly drumming  at the side of his drink.  "'Bolton', right, sorry . "

Ramsay shrugged, settling in his chair. "It's  alright, you didn't know. Been a while, like we said." 

Theon nodded and finally sipped his drink, giving a soft hum as he did so. Ramsay watched the boy's throat bob slightly and his grip tightened on his own cup. He suddenly smiled again, giving Theon a nudge under the table with his foot. "So! My advertisement; you want to be my roommate,  hm ?"

Glad to be back onto the main topic, Theon nodded, "Yeah. If, uh, if you'll have me, I mean. I got kicked out of my dad's house this past weekend, and my sister, well, she's living in the dorms over at the college, so I can't stay with her any longer. So, I  kinda  need a place fast..."

Ramsay listened and nodded along while Theon spoke before suddenly rising from his seat. Theon looked up at him, one pale brow raised. "Would you like to visit the house first?" He asked. He continued when he was given a surprised look, "I'm alright with having you as a roommate, but maybe you'd like to get a tour before agreeing to anything, see what you think and decide if it's right for you?"

Theon sto od up quickly, getting that giddy feeling again, and he tried not to sound too relieved and excited. "Yes , please!" He started to follow Ramsay out of the shop but hesitated a little. 

Ramsay turned to look at him expectantly. "Second thoughts?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, it's just- well, I don't have a car, I'm riding my bike so I might be a little slow following you there."

"Nonsense, you'll ride with me. We'll just put your bike in the back of my truck." He led Theon out into the parking lot and over to the truck he'd mentioned. It looked new, big, and shiny and black, not to mention it was probably damned expensive. Theon felt a slight pang of envy as he wheeled his rusting old bike over. With the larger boy's  help,  they got the bike into the  truck bed  with no scratches or bumps, and soon they were on their way down the road.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon watched as the view from the window slowly changed from paved streets and buildings  to that of dirt roads and tall, swaying pine trees. He fidgeted a little in his seat, growing a bit unsure, and Ramsay must have noticed because he laughed and grinned. He clapped a hand down on one of those toned thighs, making the smaller man jolt.

"Don't look so timid! What, you thought I was going to lure you in with an advertisement and coffee, then kill you and bury you in the woods?" He laughed a little more at Theon's awkward, stiff smile. "My house is all the way out here on  Dreadfort  Road, about 12 miles out of town. My father owns a lot of land, and he likes his peace and quiet and lack of neighbors  so this is where we're at. He  lives about three miles or so from me." 

Theon felt a tiny ripple of relief flow through him as Ramsay said all this. Before that, he had started to fret some; Ramsay, if this was the correct Ramsay, had a bad reputation, and  there  really was  n othing but quiet and emptiness out here. It was all kind of cliché but it had made him nervous anyway, and he was glad when Ramsay quelled any growing fears. 

Besides, he assured himself, he'd been in more than enough scraps in his young life, most of which he'd won, and he was also fairly strong and fit, so he was sure he could  fight  Ramsay off easily enough if he needed to. 

All that bothered him now was the thought of having to bike a total of twenty-four miles or to and from town. 

When they pulled up to the property Theon was in awe.  Dreadfort  Lane branched off the main road and sat nestled between two large, spacious sections of yard and ended at the small gravel l ot in front of a big but cozy-looking cabin-style home. There were at least three visible floors to it, and the whole building looked  wide and roomy. The  outside walls were structured in beautiful dark wood and were peppered with plenty of large windows, all of which no doubt gave a n excellent view of the property. Even the front doors were beautiful with their rich, dark wood, and damn did they look inviting. All of this was surrounded by a massive, dark, and slightly-ominous expanse of pine forest. It was like something out of those rich-people house-buying shows, or one of those real estate magazines he'd see in the dental office  lobbies. It was a type of house he never thought he'd see in person.

Ramsay pulled up to the house and parked. He took a moment to look over at Theon and stared, icy gaze roving over every detail and soaking each one in. He noted the way Theon was looking at his home, beautiful green eyes wide and admiring, and suddenly t here was a slight rush of blood that flowed south when he thought about how much he'd like to have that look directed at  him . 

"Theon."

The ginger turned his gaze to Ramsay now and smiled a little lop-sided. "Sorry, can't help it."

Ramsay, pleased that Theon was so impressed with just the outside of his home, nodded and got out. "You should see the inside."

Theon trotted behind him as they headed for the front doors but stopped and looked around when he heard loud, excited barking from multiple dogs. "Oh... you have dogs?"

"Yes. Three bitches. That won't be a problem for you, will it?"

"No!" Theon said, turning to Ramsay with a big grin that showed the gaps in his teeth. It made Ramsay's fingers twitch. "I love dogs! Dad never let me have one of my own, but the Starks always had these big, gorgeous wolf-dogs, and I was always really good with them, and I'll be good with yours, too!" 

Ramsay blinked slow, watching Theon's  enthusiasm. He snorted and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You can see them after I show you the house. Come." 

Theon was plenty happy with that and followed the young Bolton into the house. He  was even more impressed with the inside of the home than he was the outside and it showed on his face and in the little noises he made as he wandered around. The living room was huge and looked like it was used often. Not messy, but definitely comfortable and a place of frequent gathering - there was even a fireplace! The kitchen was also big with more than enough space to move around, and it blended in beautifully with the dining  room . Theon didn't really care about that, he'd be able to eat wherever, hell, he'd eat out on that lovely front porch if he wanted. No, what he was interested in was how big and open everything was, as well as how expensive and beautiful all the furniture and electronics were. He gave the  flatscreen  in the living room a few longing glances, briefly imagining playing his videogames or watching his shows on that beast. 

When Ramsay grew bored with showing Theon the first floor he led him up to the second where the office, guest rooms, and master bedroom were. The office was, well, an office, and it didn't look like it was used often, same for the guest rooms. Ramsay didn't show him his bedroom, instead bringing Theon up to the large attic which was stacked here and there with a few storage boxes and not much more. He told Theon the attic or either of the guest rooms were up for grabs, whatever the boy  preferr ed . After that, they headed back downstairs.

"One more thing I wanted to show you," he said, that grin coming back as he opened a door at the back end of the kitchen. Behind this door was a set of wooden steps leading down to a cement basement filled with more storage, and like everything else in and on the  property,  it was big and spacious. Theon wasn't all that interested in it, it wasn't any better than the attic but at least he might get all that attic to himself as a room.  Still, he was polite and followed Ramsay down and through the basement until they got to a heavy, metal door on the wall at the far end. The door was massive and it looked ridiculously durable , like it was meant to keep someone out- or in. 

Theon frowned.

Ramsay, though, was stillsmiling that big smile of his, a hint of mischief or something in his eyes like he was in on some joke that Theon didn't even know about. "Cool, right? Oh, don't give me that look! It's just a bunker, it's nothing bad like I know you're thinking . See, in World War II, my grandfather, he was a paranoid fellow and he decided to build a bunker just in case we were invaded."

"Oh... alright, yeah, cool," Theon said, frown lessening but brows furrowing slightly in confusion. World War II? The house didn't look that old, in fact, it looked fairly new, only a few years old. Ah, but what did he know, he was no real estate expert. Maybe the Bolton's werejust very good about maintenance and upkeep of their property? That shrugged off most of his tinge of unease, but he still pointed at the locks on the  outside  of the door. "And those?"

Ramsay scoffed, "I said my grandfather was paranoid, I never said he was a genius."

With that said, the brutishdoor was finally hauled open and the two of them stepped  inside and down into a long, narrow hallway .  Theon's nose crinkled instantly; it smelled... well, ripe in here, very strongly of iron and ammonia. He coughed and covered his nose and mouth a bit, still following Ramsay who didn't seem to mind at all. 

"Sorry about the smell, it's old and well-used."

"'Well-used'?"

"Yes. I hunt often, and when I do I bring my prizes down here to flay and prep. I figured since I had this bunker here, why not use it?" There was a click off to their right and light flooded the room ahead of them.

"Oh, okay, I see," Theon felt the ease coming back after Ramsay's explanation, so he wasn't too surprised when they finally entered that lit room and he saw a  drain and remnants of dried blood and other stains on the slanted cement  floor . That explained  the strange smells, certainly. T he walls and ceiling, like the floor, were all plain, cold gr e y  cement.  There was a  metal chain and hook hanging from th at ceiling , no doubt to hold up the animals Ramsay worked on, and  on either side of it were two sets of  piercingly-bright  fluorescent  tube lights. Looking back down , he saw  a heavy metal  chain bolted to the  floor, and off to the side and against a  wall was one of those metal medical carts loaded with clean, surgical-grade tools. Interesting, Ramsay must really like precision when he prepares his kills. He never saw Robert Baratheon being so careful whenever he joined him and Ned Stark on some of their hunts.

What really captured his attention, though, was a huge, strange cross at one corner of the room. It looked like a great, heavy wooden X, and as he stepped closer to it he saw  there  were foot holds near the bottoms and worn leather straps at the tops. He also noted the specks and lines of dried blood stained into the old wood. He swallowed and huffed an awkward laugh, glancing over his shoulder back at Ramsay. He started when he saw the other man was already right at his side , those blue eyes wide and  roving over the ugly  cross with something akin to pleasure in his gaze. Theoncleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, gesturing at the cross with a nod of his head. "So, uh... what's this thing, a Halloween prop or something?"

That big, toothy grin came right back as if it'd never left and Ramsay turned his wide-eyed gaze to him. " You  clever boy, was  it that obvious?  Yes, it's  indeed  a Halloween  prop . My boys and I, we used to do an annual haunted house on this property for our friends, and this was one of the best parts. One of the guys would get strapped onto this and he'd scream and moan as people passed by... Those parties were fun, but we don't do them much anymore, so this  ol ' girl had to come d own  here."

He patted the wood lovingly. 

Theon was swept up by Ramsay's words, his own eyes growing big as he smiled and said, "Really? You guys had haunted house events?" He looked to the cross with his own wonder now, discomfort gone. He stepped around the thing, looking it up and down and admiring, giving a little snicker. "Oh man, I wish you still did those, I can just imagine how cool something like this would be! Way better than some dude in a goofy costume just jumping out and yelling at you, you know?"

Ramsay eyed him. "So, you like it?"

Theon nodded, grinning. "I love it. Maybe next year, you and I, we could plan a real kick-ass haunted house in the woods out back? Um. That is, if I'm living here and all."

Ramsay gave his own slow nod. "I'd like that a lot. We will do that next year when we have more time to plan and organize. Invite the whole town and what-not, maybe give those people a better impression of me and my boys, hm?" He winked and began to head out of the main bunker room. Theon followed right along, glad they were finally heading out of here; it was damn chilly and his thin grey tee was doing a poor job of keeping him warm.

His excitement grew as they headed back up to the first floor and he practically bounced to the front door. "Can we see the girls, now?"

"Oh, I suppose you've earned it," he said, leading them outside and around the house. He brought the younger man to the spacious backyard where a large kennel house was. The yard was clean, and beside some water dishes were a few stakes in the ground with chains attached.

The dogs, hearing people coming, began to bark and jump against their kennel cages. Theon couldn't see them with the way the kennel house was set up, but he could hear them and the giddiness was evident on his face. He bit his lip to reign in his excitement and watch as Ramsay headed into the kennels with a set of keys. After a moment, three huge, grey Cane Corsos came bounding out of the kennel house and running up to Theon. He was intimidated by their great size and their charging at him, and he couldn't help yelping when they knocked him right down into the dirt. Instead of mauling him, though, they smothered him with warm, wet kisses and sniffing, and he wriggled and laughed. "Ladies, please! One at a time!"

Ramsay snorted and grabbed the dogs by their collars, pulling them back enough so Theon could stand properly. He snapped his fingers at the ground and each dog sat right down, still wiggling excitedly as they looked up at their new acquaintance. Theon wiped his face and beamed down at the dogs, reaching out to pet and scratch them. He looked up at their mildly-amused owner and sighed. 

"You're in paradise, Bolton, I swear."

The blue-eyed man chuckled and shrugged. "Yes, most days." He strode over to Theon and slid a heavy arm over those strongshoulders, squeezing. "So, what do you say, Theon Greyjoy? Would you like to be in 'paradise', too?" 

Theon was warmed by the touch and his stomach fluttered at the contact, his smile seeming to brighten significantly. That smile was  _too_ bright, and Ramsay wanted to to put it out like a candle, but he was sated when the other boy said, "Yeah, godsyes, please, Ramsay, thank you!"

The two of them went back around front, trailed by the three hounds as they headed inside to gather the paperwork and make it official.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First multi-chaptered fic I've written in a long, long, time, not to mention it's the first GoT-related fic I've ever written. I hope I'm doing at least fairly well, and I hope the characters aren't too off, but if they are, please let me know. I really want to get better at my writing!  
> Also, I'm sure you've at least skimmed through the tags, but I wanted to mention that this will not continue to be a very pleasant fic for much longer. I haven't decided whether or not it will have a happy ending, but I do know I plan to have parts of this be very violent, non-con, and, of course, uncomfortable. I may be adding more tags (and probably characters) along the way, but if I miss any that you think should be up there don't hesitate to tell me so that I can correct it.  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading!


	2. Happy Little Dreadfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short, filler-y chapter, next one will be busier. I'm not quite satisfied with the look of it, it seems much shorter than I originally thought, maybe a little too brief in some parts, but hopefully you all won't mind much.
> 
> EDIT - Fixed the POV in this. No more POV-swaps from here on out, it will all be 3rd person (limited and omniscient, I think, if I'm doing it right. ).

Theon had been living with Ramsay for nearly two and a half months now, and near the end of that first month he had gotten himself a decent job working the registers and stocking shelves over at the Reynold's market. It wasn't anything glamorous or fun but it paid well enough for him to have rent and food money when he needed it. The rent amount was surprisingly cheap for this new place he was staying in, too; only $300 a month, he couldn't believe it! The cheap rent was easily paid off, and it all went to Ramsay who then transferred it to Roose Bolton, a man he'd seen around town plenty of times but had never actually met- and probably wouldn't meet for a long time seeing as Ramsay didn't seem to want his father around his house at any point in the near future. As proud as Ramsay was of his new last name, he really didn't seem all that keen on his father, and any conversations about the man in question were quickly ended as soon as they were started. 

It was strange, but he wasn't one to judge any dysfunctional father-son relationships seeing as his own was less than stellar in its track record.

Another thing that surprised and confused him a little was that out of all the people who inquired about being a roommate, he was the only one that had actually accepted it in the end. The rent was cheap and the house and property were huge and gorgeous. There were also dogs! Not mention, the owner was striking and ridiculously charismatic. Honestly, thought Theon, what more could anyone ask for? It was all too good to be true. Maybe it wasn't up to the other applicants, though? Perhaps they had all been a bunch of creepy weirdos or druggies or partiers or something and Ramsay didn't approve and had rejected them? Theon was glad Ramsay appeared to approve of him, and though it was hard not to get drunk or go out and bring someone over or invite some of his more rowdier friends to the house, he'd been doing his best to stay in the good behavior zone. He knew this living arrangement was way too good an opportunity for someone like him, he knew that he was being spoiled, and so he didn't want to screw things up for himself and lose it all. Besides, he didn't miss his old habits  _that_ much. 

He'd also tried his best to help out around the house as much as he could. He often cleaned, did laundry and dishes, cooked, and took care of the dogs, most of the time without having to be told to do so by Ramsay.  

 At both his house and the Stark family home it was often a frustrating effort to get him to do any chores, and even getting him to brush his teeth or make his bed could sometimes be a task and a half. Here, though, he was kept plenty busy and he honestly had little to no problems with it. Some days it got exhausting, and sometimes he just didn't really want to, and other times he felt like he did too much. At the end of the day, though, when he was sleepy and sore, he would remind himself that he was also safe and warm. He had a belly full of food and clean clothes on his back, and if it wasn't for Ramsay he'd be out on the street, or at least, in some cramped, dingy apartment instead of this absolute palace.

So, he'd do whatever it took to stay in his roommate's good graces – even if that included pesky, tiring chores. 

If his sister could see him now she'd probably laugh and ask where he was hiding the  _real_ Theon. 

 

* * *

 

Ramsay came home from work to find Theon bent over the dining room table as he set it, his ass perked up and his t-shirt riding high enough to expose some of his warm, bare skin. On his hip he saw a small bruise and it made him inhale sharply, drove him to walk over to his roommate. The red-head straightened up and turned to him, smiling, probably thinking the look of hunger in Ramsay's eyes was due to the food on the stove.  

"Ramsay!" he greeted, those dumb teeth showing. "Hey man, how was work? You look wicked tired." 

"I am. Where'd you get that bruise?" He nodded down at his the smaller man's hip and it took a moment for it to click in his head just what had been meant. 

"What- oh, that. I fell walking with the girls today. Kyra chased a deer, and when I went to go after her I stepped wrong and fell down a little embankment. Knocked the wind right outta me, ha! And fuck, man, you should see my knee! It's still sore." 

Ramsay smiled now, a twinge in his cock at the thought of all that. "Show me after dinner, I'll help you clean and bandage it and get you some ice."  

"Thanks, that'd be great. Oh, dinner's ready now, I just need to put it on the table. Get comfortable, then come and get it."  

He watched him shuffle around the kitchen for a moment longer, then headed off to get out of his work clothes. When he came back, Theon was seated and waiting for him, though he'd already started eating. He was mildly annoyed that the other man hadn't held off until he'd gotten there, but he sat down and started on his own meal without complaint. 

Chicken and rice. Not bad, but it could be better. He'd really have to help Theon learn to keep focused while cooking, pay attention and do more so they'd stop ending up with mediocrity on their plates every night. He looked up to see he was being watched.  

"Yes?" He grunted. 

"How's your food? You like it? I could never make it as good as Yara does, but it's always been my favorite so I thought I'd attempt it for us tonight." 

Theon had a hopeful little smile on his face when he'd said that and Ramsay delighted when he watched that expression fall as he answered with, "It's alright. I've had better." 

The ginger looked embarrassed. It was lovely.  

"Oh, damn... you're right though, it is kinda muck-ish," he lifted his fork off the plate and watched some of the wet rice drip back down, then looked back at his friend and his expression went from embarrassed to amused. "Ha! Sorry about that, mate, I'll try it again some other time, maybe Skype with Yara and she can show me how to do it right, what do you think?" 

Ramsay feigned his own amused look. "Sounds like a good idea." It was, though; he was pleased to see him putting some effort forth, and that was a good start. 

After dinner Theon did the dishes and Ramsay retrieved the medkit before going out to watch tv in the living room. When a little while had passed, the injured boy had grabbed a bag of ice and then came in with his roommate, a slight limp in his step that the other hadn't noticed earlier. Ramsay reveled in the sight. 

"Let me see that leg of yours, Greyjoy." 

"Just a sec," he bent down to pull his pantleg up but it was too tight a fit and it caught on his calf. He frowned and tried again, then stopped and sighed and rolled his eyes. "You don't mind me tugging my jeans down, do you? I got underwear on, I swear, ha-ha."  

Ramsay snorted. "Oh, I'm horrified, look at me clutching my pearls here." 

Chuckling, Theon went ahead and undid his jeans and tugged them all he way down off the affected leg, then sat on the couch and set the limb in Ramsay's lap. Ramsay watched him the whole time, admiring the soft pale skin and thickness of his muscular thighs, and he damn near groaned at the way the light pink of the injured leg was marred by a large, ugly patch of deep purple bruises and little red scrapes.  

"My," he breathed. "You really did take a nasty fall, didn't you?"  

"Yeah..." Theon watched him caress his wound, hissing softly when his thumb brushed a little too hard over one particularly dark part of the bruise. "Careful, Ramsay, it's still really sore." 

"Right," He murmured. It took him another brief moment of reveling but he finally went to work at cleaning and bandaging his roommate's knee. Theon was a good boy for letting him help him out, and he didn't complain when Ramsay hurt him just a little. When the little ginger was all good and bandaged he was was handed the ice pack.

"Oof... thanks, Ramsay, you're a real pal. You wanna watch something?" 

"Sure," Ramsay said, passing him the remote. He took it and started channel-surfing, but the blue eyes beside him weren't on the screen. That bare, bandaged knee still rested in the other man's lap, and Ramsay could see some bruises still peeking out from under the edges of the wrappings. They were like watercolor stains, all of them, and he couldn't take his eyes away. He want to see more... blues, purples, yellows, greens, reds, lots of reds, and pinks... and he wanted to see them soon.

 

* * *

 

 

Gods, it'd been a great couple of months out here on the Bolton's Dreadfort property. Ramsay had been such a good roommate, so accommodating and patient with Theon. He was always so good about getting him up early for the long drive to work, and he was always very kind about letting him spend time with the dogs, letting them spend time together...  

Roose, too, had been a kick-ass landlord. Dude had never once complained about the late rent payments, and he'd also never made any of those annoying, awkward property visits, either. He pretty much just left Theon and his son to themselves. It's nice. Definitely a refreshing change from the Greyjoy's overbearing, rule-enforcing dad, you know? 

He  _would_ like to meet the guy someday, though, and properly thank Roose for letting him stay there with Ramsay and letting him make use of the property. He'd actually sent him a thank-you note along with his very first rent payment, but Ramsay never said anything about him receiving it and what he'd said if he had. Ah well, as long as he'd gotten it. 

He thought about these things as he took the girls for a walk. It was his day off and Ramsay wasn't home so he thought he'd go for an extra-long outing. The girls certainly didn't mind; they ran through the fields and darted in and out of the trees as he walked along the main road, tongues flopping around and eyes wide and happy. Theon loved those dogs. They had him wrapped around their big paws in no time, and he secretly considered them just as much his girls as they were Ramsay's.  

Willow came trotting up to him with a yellow, dirt-smudged bone in her mouth. He'd never seen a bone like that before, and it was long, unusually so, looking to be a little under two feet as well as thick all the way around. Hm. A deer leg-bone, maybe? As many times as he'd went hunting with the Starks and Mr. Baratheon, he'd never really stuck around when they had worked on the animals, it always made him a little too squeamish.  

"Where'd you get that, girly?" he asked, taking it from the ground when she dropped it at his feet. It was heavy, and it looked like there were some strange notches in the knuckles. Probably chewed on by some scavengers. Willow whined at him when he took too long with his inspection. He looked down to see her butt wiggling and he smiled and laughed. "You'd better find another, or at least share with your sisters! Go get it!" He threw the bone like it was a stick and she bolted off after it, Helicent chasing her. He didn't know where Kyra had snuck off to. 

They continued walking for a while, he didn't really know for how long. It was easy to get distracted out in all this quiet and fresh air. He loved my town, loved the buildings, social aspect, noise, and bustling, but he had to admit, none of that compared to how ridiculously peaceful, open, and beautiful this property was. It was like he was living in a damn Bob Ross painting! Happy little pine trees, happy little Theon and Ramsay and the girls... 

He'd gotten pulled out of that dreamy peace-and-quiet haze when the girls started barking and running ahead of him. Not unusual, but this time they sounded more excited than normal. _Oh gods, not another deer chase, please..._

"Girls! _HEY_! Kyra, Heli, Willow, don't you  _dare_  go after that deer! ...Or raccoon! Or whatever it is, just don't chase it!" He didn't quite have the command over them that Ramsay did, but then again, he was also a huge push-over and they knew it. And of course, they didn't listen, so he chased after them as best he could. His knee was still a little sore but it was healing nicely so he was no longer limping around, and even though he'd ran track in high school two years ago the girls were far faster than him when they were on a mission.  

Eventually he caught up with them, sort of, and he came out of the tree line to see a vast, open section of property nearly half a mile down from the main road. The house... well, if he'd thought Ramsay's house was huge then this place was damn near mansion-sized! It had a much greater amount of land, too, enough that there was plenty of space for the horses he saw grazing behind a fence. It was like the Stark's Winterfell ranch, only... not. Winterfell had plenty of space but it wasn't nearly as big, and it looked much more cozy and more lived-in with kids' toys in the yard and wolf dogs running around and playing. This place was absolutely huge and looked a little austere, so clean and well-maintained, not a thing out of place, and there was no one playing or riding.  

Theon was a little intimidated, honestly.  

The girls, though, ran around like they knew the place. They sniffed all over and wagged their tails, barked at the horses but didn't try to go near them, and the closer they got to the house the better they behaved. It made it much, much easier to catch the brat babies when he found them seated in front of the huge porch. 

"Bad girls, you know better than that! Now look, you got us trespassing on private property," Theon gently chided them as he hooked their leashes to their collars, startling a little when the front door suddenly opened. He looked up and blinked, his mouth slacking open when he saw those familiar piercing blue eyes and that stoic, quiet expression.  

_Great first impression to make in front of Roose Bolton, Greyjoy._  

"I thought Ramsay had those dogs trained?" Roose said, voice calm and silky but still holding a hint of authority to it.  

"He- he, uh, he does, sir," the red-head stammered, straightening up. "It's my fault, sorry, they like me but they don't really listen to me much, heh." He cleared his throat and stepped around Kyra, shoving a hand out to shake the taller man's own. It was taken in a grip that was firm and brief in its contact. "Theon Greyjoy, sir. Er, but you probably already knew that." 

Roose didn't smile or roll his eyes, thankfully. The boy felt dorky enough as it was. "Roose Bolton. But you already knew that." 

Theon laughed shyly and nodded, then cleared his throat once more. Why is it people always seemed to get more phlegmy when they were nervous? "Sorry about the girls, we went out for a long walk and got carried away. We walked near here and they must've smelled it or something because they just came running, barking and hollering, going all over... but they didn't do anything, didn’t even bother the horses, I promise!" He spoke fast, and he had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Theon didn't know what it was about him, but even though Roose was so subdued he was still very intimidating. It made sense where Ramsay got it from. 

"It's no trouble. Just have Ramsay show you how to train them so that they obey you properly." 

He nodded. "Yes sir, I will. It's nice to finally meet you, by the way. And, um, I don't know if you got my note that one time but I wanted to thank you for letting me live with Ramsay, even if my rent has been late both times. My job is so slow with getting the checks to me, it's ridiculous." 

Roose blinked. "It's fine, I know it will get paid eventually, so don't worry about it." 

"Thank you," he breathed. Well, that was good to know. Still, he'd make sure to pester his boss about the checks later, just in case. "Alright, well, I'll get these three out of here and leave you alone, now. See you some other time, Mr. Bolton."  

"Take care," the elder Bolton said before heading back inside. Theon exhaled heavily, feeling a little more at ease now that those cold, sharp eyes were no longer on him. He bent down and grabbed the leashes, then tugged as he started walking. The girls followed along right away, trotting ahead of him as they went back toward the trees. 

"Jeez, girlies, you coulda gotten me in real trouble, you know that? Oh, don't gimme that look, Heli, I know you and your sisters think you're just so funny," he teased, smiling at them. The encounter, though brief and calm, was still scary for him, and it took a moment for his nerves to completely settle. He was glad it happened, though; he'd been wanting to officially meet Daddy Landlord for a long time and tell him those things. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Ramsay came home later that evening Theon was sprawled on the couch, the girls on the floor all around him. Willow was busy chewing her bone that she'd found again, so she didn't bother getting up to go greet her master.  

"Hey, Ramsay," he raised a hand to limply wave, eyes still on the tv.  

"Where did Willow get that?" 

Theon furrowed his brows at Ramsay's tone. It sounded strangely quiet and tense, so he turned his head to look at him. Those eyes were wide and staring, his shoulders held tight and his fingers giving an odd twitch at his side. "Erm, she found it in the woods while we were out walking today. There must have been a deer or elk skeleton out there, look how huge it is!" Ramsay didn't seem as impressed as Theon did, and he looked at him now as the ginger swallowed and sat up. "I'm sorry, I know it's filthy, I shouldn't have let her bring it in here on the rug."  

Ramsay's eyes went half-lidded and the tension left his shoulders, and Theon gave a little sigh of relief, unaware that he was even holding his breath. The dark-haired male shook his head and shrugged. "It's fine, don't worry about it. Let her have her treat." He crouched down, getting eye-level with a wiggly Kyra and Heli, cooing at them, "Were you three good girls on your walk? You didn't chase any animals this time and get Theon hurt again?" 

Theon snorted and flopped back down. "They were good, yeah, up until they decided to take a mini-trip to your dad's house! At least I finally got to meet him, so I guess it wasn't all bad." 

The look Ramsay gave Theon made him wince, and that strange tense, flat tone was back. "What." 

The ginger stammered, "Well, see, we went for a really, really long walk and got a little carried away. I didn't even realize how far down the road we'd gone until the girls went barking and running all the way up to his house! He came out, we talked a little, then I left. It was cool, mate, he wasn't mad." 

That didn't seem to calm him any. "What did you talk about." 

"Nothing, really. I apologized about the girls but he just told me to tell you to help me train them better, then I explained about the rent and thanked him for everything, then I left. That's it." 

He stood abruptly, making Theon sink a little more into the couch, and then stormed off upstairs, hands clenched tightly at his sides. Ramsay could be heard stomping around up above before those noises were followed by the loud bang of the office door slamming. After a moment, there were quiet, angry murmurings, and Theon wondered if his roommate was on the phone. 

Kyra and Heli had slunk back over to their pseudo-owner, no doubt sensing their real master's anger, and he petted them absently as he watched tv. He don't like any sort of tension or confrontation, never ever had, and it took a while for those uncomfortable, nervous shivers to leave his body. It was even worse knowing Ramsay was probably mad at him now, though he couldn't quite place why, and the whole time he just laid there wishing he hadn't said anything at all about what happened.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, please let me know what you think. I wanna know how I'm doing and what I can do to improve!


	3. Smudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews, kudos, and bookmarks so far, guys. Really, it means a lot, and I'm so glad many of you are liking the story.   
> I probably won't be able to update as frequently as I have been with these next chapters coming up (probably after 5 or 6 I might start slowing down; I have to write more, and I only have completed or mostly-completed chapters up to 7, ha!), just letting you know ahead of time.  
> Thanks again!
> 
> Ramsay, by the way, is wearing this outfit- 
> 
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/a80798cb413d3082fe3168893efa5a31/tumblr_ovs26yArrF1tsnstto1_500.jpg
> 
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/53f0d87eaed10bf1e8dbe257ac0af777/tumblr_ovs26yArrF1tsnstto2_1280.jpg
> 
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/87d43ec5dfa66154b9768e6ece1a1ac6/tumblr_ovs26yArrF1tsnstto3_1280.jpg
> 
> Also, just a heads-up: This chapter gets a little more graphic (sexual and violent), especially towards the end, and our beloved Ramsay acts more and more like a mean, nasty creep.

There were no real repercussions from the Roose incident, at least, none that Theon was ever made aware of. Besides, Ramsay had apologized the next day for his mood, explaining that things between him and his father were tense, as Theon already knew, and that it just irked him the wrong way when his dad was making comments and 'judgments' about the way he trained his dogs and about the way Theon handled them. Understandable, thought Theon. His own father could be pretty judgmental and condescending, just much less passive-aggressive about it. 

It was all quickly forgotten about soon enough, though Ramsay did actually obey his father and started showing Theon how to train the girls better. Theon was glad for it, and the dogs did start listening to him far more often. He'd have to send another thank-you note when he got his rent money in the next couple of days.

For now, though, he was distracted with things other than dogs and Roose and thank-you's. 

It was Halloween and he was so excited about it. They weren't going to do the haunted house idea this year, but he was still going to get to dress up in a costume and go out with Ramsay and his friends. He wasn't really excited about spending time with Ramsay's friends, he didn't really like the aggressive, rude creeps, but he was willing to put up with them tonight. Besides, after a little alcohol, maybe some partying, and a whole lot of candy, he wouldn't even give a rat's ass that they were there.

He stood in front of the attic's full-length mirror, eyes roving over the reflection of his zombie costume. It was a small labor of love and he put a lot of work into it, spending some spare cash to get decent make-up and fake wound effects. 

"So cool..." He murmured, a 'bloody' fingertip tracing over the gory mix of latex and makeup across his throat. He adjusted his ragged clothing, tearing the shirt collar a little more, then double-checked the rest of his makeup before finally heading downstairs. When he got to the bottom step he was greeted with Ramsay stepping out of the kitchen, nibbling a piece of candy. He stared, mouth going agape and eyes lighting up at the other man's costume.

"Holy  _fuck_ , Ramsay, you look awesome!" He trotted over and stared him up and down, green eyes admiring all the little details and fine craftsmanship. It looked like some sort of medieval get-up with its leather and stitching, scabbard and sword, and fur-topped cloak, and it looked legit, as if Ramsay had just strolled right out of a history book. It also appeared damned expensive, too. It was impressive, and honestly quite a bit arousing. Black was definitely Ramsay's color, and that rich, deep brown was certainly a contender. "What are you supposed to be, mate?"

Ramsay grinned, puffing up a bit at the attention. He set his hands on his hips and held his head high, answering in a proud tone, "Lord Ramsay Bolton, King of the North." Theon's playful kneeling and whispered ' _my_ _lie_ _ge_ ' may have been in jest, but Ramsay found that he liked it. Loved it, actually, and he had to restrain his hands from going right to the laces on his breeches. Instead, he used them to gesture upwards. "Stand, my little zombie subject! Show your costume to your lord."

Theon did so, standing with his arms out and doing a slow rotation. He was smiling, obviously proud of the outfit. "You like it? I worked super-hard on it, see, I even did some cool wound effects with some latex and stuff I bought. Check out this wicked neck gash!" Ramsay leaned in when Theon tilted his head up, his wide eyes seeming to glimmer. Obviously, it wasn't the real thing, nothing compares to that, he knew, but it was still a fine substitute and did wonders for the young man's arousal. The other little fake cuts, bruises, and blood Theon had applied to himself were just as lovely, and he stowed all of it away in his memory knowing it was going to serve him well later that night when he jacked off. 

Theon cleared his very healthy, very intact throat when Ramsay kept staring and even touching at it. The dark-haired king looked a little dazed and like he was about to pounce on the zombie. "So, um, we ready to go?"

"What?" Ramsay looked up. "Ah, yes, we are. Go start the car, I'll be out in a moment, I have to call my boys and let them know we're on the way."

The smaller man nodded and grabbed the keys to the truck, then headed out while Ramsay made his phone call. 

He got to the driver's door and then paused, an idea coming to his mind. He trotted around to the back of the house and laughed when the girls, confusing him for a stranger, suddenly jumped up and started growling and barking until they realized it was him. 

"Ha! It's me, it's me! C'mere, sniff!" They did, sniffing his outstretched hand before being petted, and he cooed happily at them. 

"Now," he said. "You ladies be good while the men of the house are out, okay? I love you." He petted them a moment longer, then went back around front to see Ramsay looking mildly annoyed at him.

"You didn't start the truck?"

Theon fished the keys out of his pocket, looking apologetic, "Sorry, I just wanted to see the girls for a moment. Here."

Ramsay swiped the keys up and rolled his eyes, then got into the truck. He set his sword prop in-between them on the seat and said, "They'll be here when you get back."

"I know, I know, but you know I'm soft for them," Theon pouted, climbing into the passenger side, then buckled up and looked at Ramsay as they drove down Dreadfort Lane. He lifted his blood-sticky finger and gently prodded the hand on the steering wheel. "'M sorry." 

Ramsay snatched up his hand in one swift motion and held it, giving it a good, firm squeeze as he settled it on his thigh. The gesture surprised Theon but he didn't try to pull his hand back, instead giving a little squeeze of his own. He smiled shyly because it was unexpected but nice, and his cheeks went a little pink under all that makeup.

 

* * *

 

 

The music was loud, blaringly so, and even with the truck windows rolled up and their own music on they had still been able hear it right before they even got there. Neither seemed to mind, though, because the instant they parked and got out of the truck, Ramsay was too busy looking for his friends and Theon too busy following him. 

The whole house was damn crowded, too, and even though it was huge, people were still having to spill out into the back and front yards. It was uncomfortable getting through the crowd, but Ramsay seemed to have no problem with nudging and pushing people out of the way, which was fine with Theon because it'd cleared a path for him. He saw a few friends and acquaintances while bustling through and nearly every single one of them gave him strange looks when they realized who he was following.

Understandable, other than Robb and Yara he hadn't really told anyone  _who_ his roommate was. It must have been a bit of a shock seeing him with one of the town's most infamous members.

They finally made it down to the basement where they found the boys all stood around a large, metal keg, drinking more than their fair share while blocking most other people's access to it. Ramsay and his friends laughed and hooted when they saw each other, and the former bustled his way right on over to see them, clearly reveling in the praises they showered on his costume. Theon just quietly followed his roommate, not really wanting to be noticed much, if at all, by them. When he got to his friend he absently pressed against him a little to avoid the bumping and jostling of the other people in the room, as well as to put a little extra distance between him and the guys. Ramsay didn't look at him but he slipped an arm around Theon's waist and pulled him even closer, keeping him there.

"That your date?" Skinner grunted, nodding his head at Theon. "She's kinda ugly."

The boys laughed, as did Ramsay right along with them, and Theon only rolled his eyes and huffed. ' _Just ignore those idiots and they'll leave you be eventually..._ '

Ramsay noticed Theon's unamused expression and gave him a jostle. "Aww, Theon, c'mon! Lighten up, Skinner's just teasing, we all know you're not a girl!"

Theon's cheeks reddened under their makeup again. He hated when Ramsay got around his friends, he always seemed to become such a mean, mocking ass, and those pricks only served to encourage that behavior. He liked to think he could take a good ribbing or two and he knew his roommate didn't mean any of it, but still, it always hurt a bit, and his pride was always wounded by the end of the night. At least tonight he didn't really have to put up with that and it wouldn't be long before he snuck off elsewhere.

While Rams and the guys were chatting and showing off their costumes to each other, Theon shifted some under the other man's arm and stood up on his tip-toes to look around the room. He saw a few friends and former classmates, even a stray ex-girlfriend, and he waved and smiled at all of them. They responded with their own smiles, some of which turned into what looked like disappointed and confused frowns when they saw who he was pressed up against. 

His smile wavered and he awkwardly shrunk back down out of sight, slouching. 

He started to feel bad; he came to this party to have a nice time, get out and spend the evening with friends, but the instant he got here people were giving him odd looks and avoiding him.

Well... couldn't hurt to get away from this clearly unpopular group for a little bit and see if he could go around and mingle better if people weren't trying to avoid him like the plague. He shuffled around in the hold on his middle and glanced at Ramsay who wasn't even paying him any attention. 

Leaning over, he murmured in his ear to be heard above the music, "Oi, I'm gonna head upstairs and wander around."

Ramsay's grip around him tightened a bit, making the smaller man grunt, and his expression seemed to tense. After a moment, he tilted his head to speak in Theon's ear and said, "Have fun."

The little zombie smiled and slithered out of Ramsay's grasp, moving to the keg and nudging Ben aside to get a cup of beer. Ben hip-checked him a bit, making him spill his first cup, and he ignored the laughing while he poured a second one. 

Armed with booze, he turned and went to push his way upstairs, thinking he could feel the eyes of Ramsay and the boys on his back. He paid it no mind, anxious to get out of the stuffy basement and go see if he could find some friends to chat with.

Theon spent most of his time upstairs where he flittered around between rooms and jabbered with a few of his friends, feeling much better and having a lovely time. They all laughed and drank and caught up, and he instantly felt like he was back in high school again.

He was a little uncomfortable with the constant questions about what he was doing with ' _Ramsay_ _fucking_ _Bolton_ ', but he easily explained away that they were roommates and friends. His other friends still seemed a bit uncomfortable, but they quickly let it drop.

The ginger was moving back to the living room's beer keg to get his fourth cup when someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around. Startled, he raised his fist ready to fight but stopped and smiled big when he saw who it was. 

" _R_ _obb_!" He cried, lunging forward to pull the eldest Stark child in for a tight hug that was poorly-reciprocated. Moving back after a moment, his big grin dropped when he saw the irritated expression on his best friend's face. "What? What's wrong, man?"

"You! You never answered me, you prick, what the hell? If you didn't want to see me here you could have just told me!"

Theon frowned, brows furrowing. He was a bit taken aback, not sure what to say, and for a moment he actually wondered if he was talking to someone else and the alcohol in his system had him confused. "Uhm. What? What the hell are you on about, when was I supposed to have given you  _that_ impression?"

"When you were supposed to answer my text messages and calls! You haven't responded to anything in a week, it's not like you, dude..." He looked a little hurt. He wanted to say that the sudden and lengthy lack of contact had him worried, especially after knowing that his friend was now living with that whackjob Ramsay Bolton, but he managed to keep it to himself. Theon had been a little sensitive about Ramsay when they talked and he wasn't sure he liked why that may be. 

Theon, meanwhile, looked like he'd just seen the light or something, and he instantly started apologizing, "Aw jeez, I'm so sorry, Robb! I haven't been able to find my phone this last week, I coulda sworn I brought it with me to work on Monday but I haven't seen it since. Fuck, I didn't even know you were back in town!"

 Dammit, he knew he should have used the house phone to get a hold of him. Yara was probably spazzing out, too, and he made a mental note to call her up as soon as possible.

Robb sighed. Leave it to Theon Greyjoy to do something as simple as losing his phone and making his sort-of brother worry like it was the end of the world. When he spoke, he decided to leave Ramsay out of his assumptions –mostly. "Christ, man, you worried me. I knew you were busy with work, but we always talked on your breaks and days off, I thought you were pissed or, or that something happened or I dunno."

Theon immediately felt guilty. He'd been so wrapped up in himself this last week that he hadn't even spared much thought to anyone outside of his house. "I'm sorry, Robb, really. How 'bout I make it up to you, huh?"

Ramsay spent his time away from Theon just talking and drinking with his friends, and while they occasionally pestered some of the other basement dwellers for a reaction, they mostly just kept to themselves. 

After a while, he finally came upstairs, laughing and joking with his friends but stopping when he saw Theon talking to someone else. He didn't know who the stranger was, just some tall man wearing all black and draped in what looked like a wolf pelt, and Theon didn't look very happy to be having whatever conversation was going on.

So, Ramsay, squinting, decided to go see what was up, his little crew following close behind.

" -And when I see him again I'll ask Ramsay if I can use the house phone to call you up until I find my cell."

Robb scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling, "You shouldn't have to  _ask_ , you're living there, too, I mean, technically it's partly your phone, right?"

"Well, no, not exactly. See- Ah!" Theon jolted a bit when an arm draped suddenly and heavily across his shoulders, and he was hugged back against someone's chest. 

Ramsay felt a pang of anger and, though he'd never admit to it, jealousy when he saw that it was Robb Stark who'd been conversing with his Theon. His arm hugged the Greyjoy boy just a little tighter and he gave the wolf-man a tense, tight smile and a hard stare.

 "Robb Stark," He crowed, loud and forcing a friendly tone. "How are you, eh? Sayyy, shouldn't you be off at that fancy college? Shouldn't you be out getting your education? What's your major, hm? Theon didn't say, he never talks about you much."

Robb looked pretty damn unenthused when Ramsay slid in, and it was evident enough on his face and in his tone. "I'm well enough. I'm back home for the weekend, but I am indeed getting an education, and it's in politics."

Ramsay barked a sharp, derisive laugh that startled Theon and made Robb bristle. Some of his friends laughed, too, but they really weren't sure  _what_ they were snickering at.

"'Politics'? Ahh, that's funny, I never would have taken you as the type to be into that. No offense, Stark, but you don't really seem like someone who'd understand politics, or really, anything not related to sports and other physical activities. I honestly thought I'd see you working at the McDonald's or stuck at Daddy Stark's farm!"

Robb's nostrils flared and his fists clenched at his sides. He threw a sarcastic, biting smirk at Ramsay and spat, "Did you go to college,  _Snow_? Areyou going to college right now? Where are you going to work, mate? Ah, lemme guess- Daddy  _Bolton's_ law office?"

Theon squeaked when he felt Ramsay's fingers get more tense on his shoulder before squeezing hard enough to bruise. He glanced over at Ramsay and immediately regretted it when he saw the absolute rage in those eyes. He turned his attention down at his beer, stomach flip-flopping while waves of discomfort shuddered up his back. 

"Guys..." He murmured, wishing they would just stop. He was too buzzed and unfocused for all this, and he just wanted to go back to drinking and laughing like he was before.

"It's ' _Bolton_ ' now, Stark. Unlike your little piglet brother,  _I'm_ actually recognized by my father." He laughed and stepped back when Robb lunged at him, very nearly getting caught in the face by the other man's fist. Readying his own punch, he took a step forward, his boys doing the same, but all were blocked by Theon shoving himself in-between the clashing boys and grabbing a hold of Robb's shoulders.

"Stop! Stop! Enough, stop it now!" Theon held Robb in place, then whipped his head around to snap at Ramsay, "Why are you doing this, what's the matter with you??"

The grin dropped right off Ramsay's face and he scowled. It took everything in him not to punch Theon right then and there. 

The other boy didn't seem to notice, instead turning to Robb again and pushing him back a bit, moving him further away from his seething roommate. He said something to Robb, but Ramsay couldn't make it out over the loud music and murmuring of some of the partygoers watching them. Whatever it was, it pissed off Robb and the Stark boy gestured irritably, yelling something about how Theon was an idiot for even being near Ramsay, that Ramsay was a terrible person. 

He couldn't hear the rest, the ringing in his ears was getting too loud as his rage grew.

The two men argued a moment longer before Theon stormed off, blinking rapidly and breathing hard. Robb appeared to be in the same state, though his eyes were filled with anger rather than tears. He gave one last glare at Ramsay before stomping off, too.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon was hiding away in the bathtub of one of the only available bathrooms when Ramsay found him about an hour and a half later. 

He was slumped over against the tile wall and porcelain, zoned out and wasted. There were tear streaks smudging skinny tracks in the zombie makeup on his cheeks, and a few plastic cups and a spilled, mostly-emptied wine bottle cluttered at his feet. 

He'd clearly spent his time crying and getting very drunk, and Ramsay didn't know whether to be amused or irritated. He opted for the former as he locked the bathroom door and then crouched down beside the tub. Crossing his arms over the edge and resting his chin there, he sing-song'd, "Theon... oh, The~onnn..." 

His roommate drunkenly turned to face him, gaze half-lidded and bleary-eyed, brows furrowing. He slurred, "Go'way, Rams, 'm.. 'm mad at you."

"God, you reek of booze, you fucking lush," he snickered, ignoring the comment about him leaving, then feigned a pout at Theon's clumsy glare and his mumbled ' _fuck off_ '. "Ohh, my Theon, I know you don't mean that. You're just sad Robby and I don't get along. That's it, isn't it?" 

"I-" Theon grunted as he flopped over to the opposite edge of the tub, nearly landing against Ramsay. "Mmh, I guess so."

Ramsay moved to be closer to Theon until their foreheads were pressed together, and even though the face paint was smudging and the smell of booze on the smaller man's breath was overwhelming, he stayed put to continue purring and murmuring at him. Next, he moved an arm and reached it around behind Theon to stroke and pet at his sweaty mop of hair. 

Despite his previous irritation, the Greyjoy boy sighed and leaned into the touch.

"It must be very hard seeing the two people you care about most fighting and hating each other like that, hm?"

"Mhm... wait, what about... 'bout Yara?" 

Ramsay rolled his eyes. 

"We're not talking about  _Yara_ , darling, we're talking about  _me_ and that  _Robb friend_." He said the last two words with a bit of thinly-veiled venom that Theon couldn't really detect through his inebriation.

"Oh..."

"That's right. But Robb apologized to me, you know," he lied, stroking the soft hairs at the back of Theon's neck. It was very tempting to pull those red strands but he resisted.

Theon tilted his head a little to look at him, brows furrowed and eyes blurry and unfocused. "He did? That... yep, that sounds like him, he's very, um. Very sweet."

"Yes. ' _Sweet_ '. He wanted to apologize for his disruptive and downright poor behavior earlier. He said he was sorry to you, too."

Theon beamed in his clumsy, drunken way, then quickly furrowed his brows again and asked, "Oh, but... but did  _you_ apologize, Rams?"

Ramsay grunted. "Why would I need to apologize?"

"Because you- you were bad, too. You both bummed me out, and, like... you hurt Robb's feelings, so-" he was cut off when Ramsay's other hand shot right up and clamped hard around his jaw, forcing the boy to look at him. Even through his warm, drunken haze, Theon could feel the cold coming from those eyes as clear as crystal. He whimpered softly but didn't pull away.

Ramsay spoke, soft and steady, but there was an edge to his tone, "Theon... darling. Pet.  _I_ did nothing wrong. I saw you were sad about something so I came to help out. Robb got jealous and aggressive. I only reacted the same way in defense. Don't you remember? Huh?"

Theon looked like he was thinking as hard as he could in his current state. That... that had to be right, right? It sounded accurate, but he wasn't sure. But Ramsay was usually right about things, and as far as Theon knew his roommate was always honest with him. 

He blinked and murmured, "I think I 'member. Yeah. Yeah, okay. 'M sorry, Rams..."

The young Bolton shrugged and released his bruising hold on Theon's jaw, his other hand going back to hair-stroking. "It's alright, you're forgiven. It was a frustrating, ridiculous situation, but it's over so don't worry your pretty little head about it anymore. I took care of everything."

It was true that Robb had eventually come over to him and apologized. There was a great satisfaction in seeing the regretful look on Robb Stark's face and hearing him say, " _Hey, I'm sorry, man, we shouldn't have done that, Theon didn't deserve it_ _._ " 

Ramsay, to his credit, what little of it there was, managed to feign his own apology, but only because he didn't want anything other than that getting back to Theon just in case. After pledging to never mention any of it again and to just avoid each other from here on out, the two went their separate ways; Robb to find some slut girlfriend he'd apparently brought along, and Ramsay to go find his poor little Theon.

He'd found him, of course, and now here they were, huddled close and staring at each other, one in the tub and the other on the floor. 

They didn't speak for a while, just sat there in each other's company. As he sat there, Ramsay's eyes roamed over Theon's face, lingering over the red-rimmed, glossy green eyes, over the tear streaks, over the smudged makeup... and then they lingered on those pretty lips coated in all that fake blood. That red makeup didn't look as good and fresh as it did earlier, what, with all the alcohol Theon had been chugging all night, but it still did the trick. Ramsay felt his cock growing hard, and he knew Theon could see his pupils dilating right before he leaned in to kiss him. 

He felt his roommate tense up in surprise for a brief moment before melting right in and clumsily kissing back, arms slinging themselves over his shoulders, heavy and uncoordinated. 

"R-Ramsay..." He moaned, muffled and slurred. "You-?"

"Shh, shh, shh, shut up, shut up," Ramsay hissed, kissing a little more feverishly. He groaned against Theon's painted lips, nipping them hard and tugging some of that red hair, and when the other boy whined softly he shoved his tongue into his mouth. The taste of copper from Theon's newly-split lip hit is taste buds and he growled, hips thrusting up from the floor a bit. 

Theon tried to catch up with the pace of the kiss, but he was awkward and slow, and there was so much happening at once. Ramsay didn't care, Theon was perfect like this; unable to take control, unable to protest, unable to slow it down. 

There was a sudden, loud knock at the door and Theon tensed in his arms. He whipped around to snap at the door, eyes a bit frantic, " _What??_ "

Some voice, one he didn't recognize, called out from over the din of the music and crowd, "Dude, I need to piss, get out!"

Ramsay inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly, eyes closing for a moment. Then, he spat, "Yes, fine, wait a fucking second!"

He turned to face Theon again and quickly pulled him back into the kiss, slower this time, but just as rough. Theon's bottom lip slipped in-between his teeth and he bit down, hard, then sucked and lapped up the blood that came from the bite. The ginger, giving a yelp, gave Ramsay a weak push at his chest, and he finally pulled away. He groaned low and needy when he saw that face with its smeared, ruined makeup, as well as the faint hint of bruises peeking out from under the smudged spots on his jaw. Oh, and those lips, swollen and wet and pink, stained with blood from the cuts on them...

Gods, he wanted to shove his cock right in there, and he very nearly began to undo the lace on his breeches when that damn knocking and yelling resumed. 

"DUDE! OUT!"

"JUST A FUCKING MINUTE!" he roared, eyes wild and chest heaving a tad. He stood up abruptly and bent down to slip his arms under Theon's pits, yanking him up out of the tub. The action dizzied Theon and he clung to Ramsay, groaning and wincing at the headache forming. The sober male unlocked the door and yanked it open, his hard glare stopping the other partygoer dead in his tracks for a moment before he shoved past the guy.

Theon, despite his drunkenness, held tightly to Ramsay as they pushed through everyone, but he was slow and tripping over his own two feet. So, Ramsay stopped and hefted him up in his arms to hold him like a child against himself. 

"Mind my sword, darling. You damage my gear and I'll break your leg." His tone was jesting, but there was a veiled threat in there. He was more than a little pleased when Theon's response was to hold tighter to him and press lazy, sloppy little kisses to his jaw and throat. He could feel an extra tinge of wet warmth from the blood off Theon's lips, and it made him hard all over again. The disgusted, confused looks he got from a few people were just as satisfying as the blood smudges on his neck, with Robb Stark's expression being particularly delicious.  

He reveled in it all the way out the front door.

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay flopped heavily onto the sheets of his vast bed and frantically worked at the laces on the pants of his costume. 

He'd just spent a long while standing before his bathroom mirror, admiring the bloody kiss prints smeared onto his neck, as well as the smudged makeup and blood on his mouth and parts of his face. The sight of those colors and the night's memories that followed along with them quickly got him heated up, and he'd rushed off to his bedroom to relieve that pent-up feeling.

He hissed sharply, relieved as he finally freed his needy cock from its confines. His dick was so hard that it ached, and that slight pain made him groan louder into the darkness of his bedroom. 

"Oh, pet," he rasped, lashes fluttering as his hand dragged along his length and squeezed. "Yes..."

His thoughts were of nothing but gorgeous pale skin painted in delicious reds and pinks, and his ears, how they rang with choked, wet cries and distorted, pleading sobs. 

He thought about that pretty little neck, and oh, how it would look so much prettier with a genuine ugly, gaping gash ripping it open. 

He thought about that short, muscular body made rail-thin and broken, thought about it brought down to the floor and crawling on aching hands and knees. 

He thought about all the broken bones, all the deep, ugly bruises, and all the vicious, bleeding cuts and tears.

Ramsay wanted what was in his head, wanted it so, so badly... He wanted to see his little Theon crying and struggling to live, dragging himself towards his master's boots and begging up at him with those big, green eyes. He wanted to feel that warm, thick blood as it dribbled onto his hands, wanted to feel it wetting his cock, wanted to taste it on his tongue, and he wanted to see it leaving Theon's body. He wanted every breath to be a pained, shaky gasp, each one more desperate and softer than the last. 

He imagined beautiful, dying Theon looking up at him, clutching weakly at his lord's boots and trying so hard to speak with his ruined throat.

" _M-_ _master..._ _Please..._ " He'd say, voice a garbled, wet whisper. " _Please help me..._ "

Ramsay hissed and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, the sharp pain and warm trickle that followed causing his dick to pulse in his hand. He started to thrust against his palm, stroking himself now, and he growled under his breath to the fantasy in his head, "No, pet... there's nothing I can do for you now." 

His mind flashed with the image of Theon looking shocked, scared, and devastated just before the last light left those green eyes for good, and that was all it took to finally push him over the edge. 

His balls tightened and his thighs quivered, and then he came hardest he had in a while, spilling on his knuckles and spattering his lower belly. A deep shudder ran all throughout his body and he gasped softly, panting and moaning in his sheets as he brought his cum-spattered hand to his mouth to lick some of his seed away.

' _It should be Theon doing this_ ,' he thought. ' _Hands and knees over me, licking me clean and then thanking me for being so generous to him._ '

And it absolutely would be Theon, too, he was damn certain of that. Any day now, Theon would be begging Ramsay to fuck him, beg the man to let him swallow his cum and worship him for the proper 'lord' he was. 

He really couldn't wait.


	4. Warm as Whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so much for the support. :>  
> So, some nsfw porn stuff in this chapter, and, of course, Ramsay continuing to be manipulative and bad. But that's how we like him, right?

Winter was coming, and it was coming hard and fast. 

All the weather stations and news reports said that this year was looking like it was going to have the worst winter in over a century, and if this nippy summer and biting fall were anything to go by then they were definitely going to be in over their heads. The community was spazzing out a little bit, already stocking up like squirrels and getting ready well ahead of time before they were no doubt snowed into their homes for hours or even days.

Theon felt like he was suffering the most from this oncoming winter. 

He dreaded going to work these last couple of weeks, almost never getting a damn break with how busy the supermarket was. A constant flow of rude, urgent, needy customers with their loads of groceries kept him on his feet for hours and his hands never seemed to stop moving. By the time he got home every day after his shift, he was too tired to do anything and practically flopped down upon entering the door. Depending on whether or not he was driven, add in the extra twelve-to-twenty-four-mile bike rides nearly every day and he was pretty much useless for the rest of the evening.

His mood was suffering because of all this, too, and poor Ramsay and the girls had to deal with his snippy, bitchy attitude. Even Robb had gotten barked at a time or two after Theon had finally found his phone -which had strangely been hiding away under his bed for so long, he had no idea how he missed it. They didn't talk as much as usual, not only due to Theon being busy at work but also because of the man's recent moods. Still, Robb was very understanding. He'd been to the stores a few times with Talisa in the last couple of weeks and he'd seen how horribly busy they were, so he could sympathize. 

Ramsay, though... Ramsay was not quite as understanding. The audacity Theon had to speak to him the way he did recently! He just couldn't believe it, it infuriated him, and every time that little brat dared to get pissy with him it took everything in him not to knock Greyjoy's ass to the floor. 

It did help a little that on his days off, or even later on during the evenings after work, Theon was rather apologetic, and he tried to suck up to Ramsay in little ways like cooking his favorite meals or having them go on walks together with the girls. 

It sated the beast some, and Ramsay took that as a good sign that Theon, though not quite obedient and respectful as he should be yet, was still able to see when he was being wrong and that he'd needed to correct his poor behavior. It wasn't happening as quickly as it should, but he knew he had to be patient. He knew in time that Theon would be so quick with correcting himself that he'd never do anything wrong in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon came home an hour later than normal, irritable and exhausted and wanting to sleep like a kraken for ten years

He was comforted some, though, when he entered the house and was hit with the familiar smell of chicken and rice. It warmed him a little despite the absolute freezing temperature of the house, and he wandered into the kitchen to see Ramsay at the counter readying two plates. 

"Heater's still broke?" He asked, his breath coming out in a faint fog as if to answer his question for him.

Ramsay snorted. "Good evening to you, too. And yes, it is. The man said he wouldn't be able to come by until tomorrow, said he was damn busy this week."

"Oh," Theon sighed. "Well, I hope the asshole gets here early, I wanna come home to Hell, not Antarctica."

Ramsay smirked, and he grumbled under his breath, "That can easily be arranged, darling..."

Theon didn't hear him, too busy sending a text to Robb saying that he finally got home. He stood and groaned, rubbing his sore thighs. "'Monna go get a quick shower, my feet are killing me and that bike ride home nearly did me in."

"Oh? Alright. Your plate will be in the microwave when you're ready." He grabbed his own plate and headed off to the living room while Theon trudged upstairs. 

It was terribly cold in here; he'd purposely shut the heating off yesterday afternoon and lied to Theon, saying that it must be broken because he tried all he knew and couldn't get it to work. Theon was dumb enough to trust him, not even bothering to check things out for himself. Gods, thanks to what he did it now felt like it was colder in the house than it was outside, but it'd be worth it if he could get his little plan to work. 

He settled into the couch and starting eating, absently watching some sitcom while he waited for his roommate.

Theon came down the stairs after almost 20 minutes, hair wet and curled around his sleepy face and tired body dressed in some old black hoodie and track pants. Nothing particularly enticing, but Ramsay still felt a stirring in his jeans at the mere sight of him. His head was still turned towards the television screen but he watched Theon move around the kitchen from the corner of his eye until the other man finally came in to sit beside him on the living room couch. 

"You feeling any better?" He asked, giving Theon's thigh a nudge.

Theon grumbled around a mouthful of food, "Sore as shit. And freezing, too. That shower was good, but when I stepped out that fucking cold hit me and I thought my nipples were gonna become icepicks." 

Ramsay laughed. "I know, I know, but it'll get fixed tomorrow, I promise. Come here." He opened his arms and sprawled a little more, leaving his front wide open for Theon to lay against.

Theon raised a brow and looked him over, but moved to lie down. He got comfortable against Ramsay and sighed, already beginning to feel warmth seeping into his back. Strong arms slipped around his middle, helping to heat his front now, and he hummed pleasantly. He ate his dinner, then set the plate on the coffee table before flopping his head back against Ramsay's shoulder and closing his eyes.

"Dude, that was so good, friggin' better than Yara's," he murmured. Tilting his head a bit, he continued, " Thanks for making it."

Goosebumps rose on the skin of Ramsay's neck and collar when Theon's breathed huffed against him, and he exhaled quickly. "You're welcome, glad you liked it." 

Another five minutes or so of companionable silence had passed when Ramsay's grasp slid down a little further from Theon's middle. He delighted in the way his roommate's breath hitched softly as he snuck his hands under the smaller man's hoodie and shirt, his cold fingers meeting with smooth, warm skin and a light dusting of hair. Lovely.

Theon squeaked and wriggled a bit, huffing a pitched laugh. "What are you doing, you ass, your hands are  _freezing_!"

"And that's why I'm obviously warming them, duh," Ramsay said, smirking. Well, warming them,  _and_  indulging in some skin contact, of course. 

When Theon didn't pull away –not that he'd let him-, he settled his hands comfortably against that warm, flat belly, resting just above the hemline of those track pants. He felt a faint quiver under his palms, and when he glanced at Theon he saw some pink in his cheeks. His stare stayed put as his fingers slowly rubbed and petted, brushing through the hair on his roommate's stomach. He watched that blush deepen some and saw those eyes get a little glazed and half-lidded. 

After a long, quiet moment he dared to take things further, slipping both his hands down under the hemline of Theon's underwear, fingertips brushing against the base of a half-hard cock.

Theon gasped and bucked, jolting in Ramsay's arms. He wriggled, grabbing at the other man's wrists but couldn't get them to budge. "H-hey, Rams, what are you doing? Ramsay?"

Ramsay paid no mind to his friend's confusion and sudden shyness. He tilted his head to press a few soft kisses and nips to the shell of Theon's ear, voice low and husky as he purred, "Warming me... and warming you." 

Theon could only manage a weak, shaky moan as he melted against Ramsay, grip slackening on those wrists the instant one hand took hold of his cock and began to stroke while the other moved to massage at his inner thighs. He bucked up once, twice, before the massaging hand pinned him down some, and it was then that he realized he could feel a large bulge being pressed against his ass. He didn't hesitate and began rolling his hips as best he could to grind against that erection, whispering, "Ramsay..."

There was a thrust against his ass and a rumbling growl in his ear, then, "How's that, sweetness? Hm? Feels good, doesn't it?" 

The red-head writhed against him some in response and closed his eyes, mewling. Ramsay's hands were like magic, he was starting to see stars just from a few touches and whispered words in his ear, and the thought of how big Ramsay might be was starting to get him even more excited. God, had it really been so long since he'd had any real intimate contact? He must look absolutely silly and desperate.

"I-it does, Rams, it feels good... please," he whimpered. 

"Please what, Theon?" He squeezed the cock in his hand and was rewarded with a pitched moan.

Theon answered his own request by turning his head and moving in for a kiss, pressing their lips together and muffling another moan. He swore he saw sparks, and it made him a little dizzy. 

Made him a little confused, too... 

As they lay there kissing and pleasuring each other, hazy images began to drift into his mind. There was porcelain and tiles all around, and then black and brown and the palest blue eyes looking back at him. There were arms around him, a hand in his hair, lips on his own. There was Ramsay with red and grey paints smeared all over the lower half of his face and there was blood on his neck. Suddenly, he was being carried, and there were so many lights and sounds, so many faces, so many monsters and strangers. He'd tasted copper and alcohol, felt pleasure and pain. 

It all seemed so real and so familiar, and those very thoughts and tastes and sounds had haunted his dreams for the last month, so it had to have happened, right? Or at least, something similar? 

He wasn't sure, and he so desperately wanted to find out, had been wanting to ever since he woke up that morning after Halloween with sore, swollen lips, ruined makeup, and little bruises along his jaw. 

In his dreams, it was always Ramsay's face in front of his own, always those icy eyes piercing right through him, always those strong hands holding him close, always Ramsay making his heart pound and making him whimper in pain. Nearly every morning after each dream, he wanted to shoot right up out of bed and go ask Ramsay what had happened at that Halloween party, if they had really made out like that, if it was Ramsay who caused these dreams of his. But he didn't. He always kept it to himself, too embarrassed and scared, too worried he'd be wrong and end up offending Ramsay or something. 

With what they were doing now, though, with the slight familiarity that came from it, he wasn't so sure what to think about those dreams and the images in his head...

"Theon?"

Theon blinked, coming back to the current situation. Ramsay was just an inch away from him, a questioning look on his face. 

"Are you in there?" He continued, teasing now. "Don't tell me I've lost my touch already."

Theon's blush seemed to deepen, though it was more from embarrassment than heat. He shook his head, eyes wide now but still a bit glazed. "No, no, sorry! 'M sorry, I just... when we kissed, I got distracted." When Ramsay only raised a brow, Theon hesitated but kept talking. "See, I... well, it's gonna sound super-stupid, but I've been having these dreams, right? In them, you and I, we're at that Halloween party but we're kissing. Hard. And it hurts but it's so good." 

He cleared his throat and turned his gaze away to the ceiling, feeling dumb now.

Ramsay mulled all that over in his head for a moment, then decided he should just tell Theon. He nuzzled him and hummed, saying, "We did. Kissed, that is. I came to find you after you got drunk and upset, and when I did we made out."

Theon turned his attention back to Ramsay, a little shocked. "How come you didn't say anything?"

_Because you never brought it up,_ _you_ _delicious_ _little slut_. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about it. You were drunk, and I didn't know if you were even genuinely attracted to me. For all I knew, I could have told you only to end up accused of violating or taking advantage of you."

Theon felt a rush of relief knowing that Ramsay seemed to have felt shy and cautious about it, too, that, he wasn't so dumb and lame for his conflicted feelings after all. He laughed, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he teased, "Oh, but you thought it was perfectly fine and normal to just hold me down and grab my willy without asking?" 

There was a pause followed by a tight smile and pitched chuckle. "I never said I was Oberyn Martell, pet, I'm no wooing expert."

Theon's smile softened and he looked at Ramsay with more affection.  _A little touch_ _of admiration and fear and that look would be perfect..._  "I know. I'm just messing with you, I really don't mind. I mean, ha, if you hadn't done anything I probably would have eventually, so..." 

"Then let's continue, shall we? Hm, where were we... ah, yes-" he took hold of Theon's dick again and resumed his stroking. Theon instantly melted all once more, settling back against Ramsay's front with a happy groan. The other hand wandered away from those muscular thighs and slid up over the ginger's belly and chest to give a tweak at one of his hard little nipples. Theon gasped softly and arched some, pressing up into those calloused fingers.

"Ramsay... fuck, mate," the little Greyjoy whispered. He started to roll and swivel his hips again, rubbing his ass all over Ramsay's bulge. Feeling a tad bolder now, he moved aside slightly to have access to the front of Ramsay's jeans where he loosened them as best he could before he shoved his hand under the waistband. 

"Oh, wow," he huffed upon feeling the size of the length in his hand. His eyes met those of his roommate's and he blushed, grinning coyly. "Gonna sound like a porno here, but you're big."

Ramsay smirked, expression smug and heated. "Yeah? You think you'll be able to fit me someday?"

Theon stammered, eyes a little wide, "I-I think so... I hope so. Someday, yeah."

"You will," purred Ramsay, causing the other man to tuck his head up against his own and hide his face.

Theon was excited by that thought, about losing that particular virginity to Ramsay. It's... it's scary, too, but definitely more exciting, and something he's been thinking about more and more in the last couple of weeks. Originally, he'd been dead-set on losing it to Robb, but when his feelings continued to go unrequited and his best friend got with Talisa he started losing hope until he eventually just gave up. Then, with his attraction to Ramsay growing, well, his plans were redirected. 

"Yeah," he huffed. "I will."

The two of them laid like that, stroking and touching each other until finally, Theon's body stiffened and arched up, thighs quivering as he came into his friend's hand. He gave a breathy whimper of Ramsay's name, then shuddered and settled back down against him. Still panting, he removed himself from Ramsay and carefully sat up before crawling off of him.

Ramsay frowned, wiping his hand on a blanket. "You're just going to leave me in this state, pet?"

"No, Rams, never," he said, that coy little smile coming back as he nestled himself in-between Ramsay's thighs. He reached forward and properly undid the other man's jeans, then reached in and gently tugged his cock out. He blinked slow and groaned, licking his lips at the sight of it. "'M jealous."

"Don't be," Ramsay hummed, folding his arms behind his head. He looked down at Theon expectantly, nudging his hips up. "What's mine is yours. Now, please, by all means, have at it."

Theon didn't need any further encouragement. He leaned in and gave a tentative lick at first, earning him a sharp hiss, then gave another, bolder one, going all the way to the head. Dipping the tip of his tongue along the slit, he glanced up at Ramsay with wide eyes to see the other man staring right back at him. He cleared his throat and looked down, then back up, lips brushing the head of Ramsay's cock as he murmured, "I've only ever done this once or twice before, and when I did I was pretty drunk, so I don't know if I'll be very good... is that okay?" He felt the tip pulse against his lips and he saw the way Ramsay seemed to revel in that information.

"That's perfect, don't worry about it."

"Yes, love." Theon continued his task, taking part of Ramsay into his mouth as he gripped the rest of him with his hand. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on keeping his teeth out of the way, on using his tongue more, on adding the right amount of suction and licks and kisses. At one point, he bobbed his head a little too hard and choked himself, coughing and sputtering, eyes watering. Ramsay openly groaned at that and when he rasped out a ' _try again_ ', Theon did.

It was a sight to watch for the Bolton son, seeing his Theon willingly choking himself on his roommate's cock like that just to please him, trying so hard to properly deepthroat him only to end up coughing and groaning with his eyes spilling tears. 

Beautiful. 

Theon looked annoyed whenever he tried to go slow and careful and then got impaled by Ramsay's thrusting, but he never stopped, never pushed those thrusting hips away, never pulled Ramsay's hand out of his hair when it went in and tugged too roughly. Ramsay admired the dedication to his pleasure, absolutely loved that he was Theon's sole focus in that moment, and that, along with everything else going on, finally pushed him over to his climax. 

Ramsay grabbed hard at the back of Theon's head and shoved him down, and though the ginger protested some and tried to pull back, he still caught most of it in his mouth and in the back of his throat. He coughed and whimpered, sputtering a bit, but Ramsay would be damned if that boy didn't swallow nearly every drop. 

When he finally got to pull away, Theon's lips were wet and swollen, pink and painted with Ramsay's cum, and his cheeks were deeply-flushed and streaked with tears. Those green eyes were wide, red-rimmed, and glossy as he looked up at the other man for approval, panting softly. 

He was gorgeous. 

A little extra color, though, just a bruise or two on his cheek or a cut on his lip, and he'd be perfect. It was sating enough, though, just knowing how sore Theon's poor little throat would probably be in the morning.

"Good boy," Ramsay purred, stroking Theon's hair and making that tired smile practically glow. The younger man helped clean him up and then tucked him away, and after that they spent the rest of the evening quietly cuddling on the couch and watching some true crime special on the television.

When Theon had finally fallen asleep in his lover's lap, Ramsay reached over and snatched his phone up off the coffee table. He'd put in a reminder that he'd need to switch the heat back on after Theon left for work tomorrow. 


	5. Happy Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Hell, this chapter came out LONG, and it took forever to write and edit, ugh. And then that sex scene, I don't know WHY but it was so difficult and I was just so uninspired. Overall, such a pain in the ass, I had a really hard time with this chapter only to end up mostly unsatisfied with the whole thing...  
> I just hope you guys like it because that's really all that matters in the end. Please let me know what you thought about it, and also if this chapter was good as one whole, long part or if it should have been separated into two.
> 
> By the way, Sunny is supposed to look like this - https://68.media.tumblr.com/5c20b00f97b8d3399a64a27361cb15f4/tumblr_ovwu18sAXA1wzsfufo1_1280.jpg . She's basically just Alfie Allen's dog, Abby.  
> Let me know what you think of her, if I should keep her in or not. She's not going to be a key piece of the plot or anything, but she is a fairly big part in Ramsay's control over Theon and I already have a decent enough idea of what I'm going to do with her.

"Ramsay!" Theon hollered, barging into the house.  

He actually sounded happy despite it having been another shit day at work. His body was sore and he was exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to flop right down on the entryway rug, but his excitement kept him up and jogging around the house. "Ramsay!"  

He followed the muffled  _'in here_ ' and hurried up to the second floor to Ramsay's room where the door was already left open. Coming down the hall, he could see his lover seated on the bed and looking at something in his lap, frowning deeply. Theon's own look instantly matched that of Ramsay's at the sight of it and he hesitated in the doorway. "Rams? What's wrong?" 

Ramsay held up what Theon previously couldn't see; two pieces of what looked like a knife, the handle and the blade separated and lightly blood-stained.  

"Um. I don't understand?" 

Ramsay sighed and rolled his eyes before glaring back down at the broken tool. "Well, that's because it has no significance to you. This, my dear, is my flaying knife. I use it –or rather,  _used_ it- when I did my skinning." 

"Oh," Theon understood the odd shape of the knife now and went to sit down beside Ramsay. He took it when Ramsay let him and looked it over, mindful of the dried, flaking blood here and there. "What happened to it? Ah-" He hissed softly and grunted in annoyance; in his absent-mindedness, he'd nicked his fingertip along the fine edge of the blade. 

Ramsay was quick to take that hand up and inspect the cut fingertip before slipping it into his mouth. He mumbled around it, the warm vibrations pleasant to Theon, "I'd went hunting earlier, wanted to get us some meat for a stew tonight. Brought the doe down to the bunker and went to work on her, and normally I'm more careful, but the fucking tip there, you see, yes, it caught on a rib and just... the blade fucking snapped right out of the handle!"  

Theon winced when Ramsay chomped down a bit on his finger and pulled it away from the other man's mouth. 

Ramsay kept talking, blood on his tongue and teeth, "Piece of shit. I mean, it's an old one, I've had it a long time, and it was my dad's before then, but still! You'd think a little quality would factor into production! Disappointing." 

"Damn, that sucks. I'm sorry, man," Theon passed the two parts back to Ramsay who took them and shrugged, then scowled and threw them hard across the room. They clattered sharply against the opposite wall and Theon winced. 

"You didn't break it. Now," Ramsay said, flopping back against the bed. He left an arm spread open as an invitation for Theon to do the same, which he did, and the ginger cuddled up against his lover's side. "What did you come here so excited for? Did you skip work and go play around town instead, today?" 

Theon chuckled, "Yes, that's exactly what I did. Damn, I thought I was more careful about my plans!" 

"Naughty boy, I knew it. I should punish you." He gave Theon's hair a little tug, then petted it. 

"Ow. Naw, I  _did_ go to work, unfortunately, but guess what?" 

"No." 

"Oh. Well, I got my holiday request approved! I didn't think it would go through but it did! I guess some of the other employees really, really wanted that Christmas overtime for the extra money so they didn't mind working, and meanwhile _I_  get to go on a mini vacation." He beamed up at Ramsay, probably expecting him to look excited, too. 

"Who will you be staying with?" Ramsay asked, expression neutral. 

"Ah," Theon's smile faded a bit. He fidgeted, looking down at his bloody finger before pressing it against his palm. "I was thinking about staying with the Starks again. I've spent almost every single Christmas with them and I just figured I'd keep up tradition, y'know, and it would be really nice to see Robb again. I miss him." He felt Ramsay tense against him and he could probably guess what the other man's expression was. Quickly, he added, "You- you could come, too! I don't think they'd mind! And I'm sure Robb's forgotten all about that argument at the Halloween party, he's never said anything about it whenever we talked. So, what do you think? You wanna come?" 

Ramsay sighed, prompting Theon to look up at him. The raven-haired man's expression was verging on a pout, and he actually looked like he was moping, which Theon immediately sympathized with.  

Good.  

"Rams?" 

"It's just..." He huffed another sigh and lamely gestured his free hand up before flopping it to the bed. "S'just I was really hoping you'd get that break time so I could spend the whole holiday with you." 

Theon scoffed and smiled again, thinking Ramsay was sweet. "Aw, but Rams, we can do that at the Starks, no problem. I'm sure they won't mind us spending time together, and I don't think Robb will care, either. He'll have Talisa with him so he'll be distracted sometimes, too." 

"Yeah, but," Another huff, and Ramsay even rubbed his face, looking off at the opposite wall. "Well... Look, I know I sound selfish, but I really just wanted to spend a long, quiet Christmas with only  _you_ , Theon." 

"Oh..." Theon's smile faded. 

"See, I never had very good Christmases... my mother, she was, well. I told you how she was with me, how poor we were, too. And when I finally went to live with my father's family, it still didn't feel very loving. Domeric got so spoiled, he got so much attention, and even when he died it somehow got worse for me. Then, after that, when I got older, my father and I never spent more than Christmas dinner together. No gift exchanges, no happy Christmas mornings, no fun family visits... But then you came along, and I thought this year might be different." 

Theon felt instant guilt. He hadn't even asked Ramsay how he might feel about things, what he might want to do for the holiday. Meanwhile, here he was making plans for them, just going on and assuming the guy would want to spend Christmas with people who probably hated him. Gods, he didn't want to put him through a whole new version of those terrible past Christmases! What was he thinking? 

He sat up, careful not to get blood on Ramsay or the bed, and said, "And it will be! It will be, I promise! It'll be me and you, and- and we'll do all the Christmas-y things we can think of! Hot cocoa by the fireplace, cute little jinglebell collars on the girls, tacky sweaters on us, and a lovely, happy Christmas morning for us to wake up to." 

Ramsay looked to him now, smiling big and satisfied, and his blue eyes practically glimmered. "You mean that, then?" 

 "Yeah! It's gonna be so fun, I swear, you're gonna have a real Christmas, love." He climbed over Ramsay and got off the bed, heading out of the room and calling out, "I gotta go call Robb!" 

"Okay~!" Ramsay sing-songed, then looked up at the ceiling and grinned wider. Well, that was easier than he thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon couldn't believe he'd driven seven hours to go shopping in godsdammed King's Landing. He also couldn't believe he'd gone to six shops and two malls so far trying to look for the right gift. And finally, he couldn't believe he'd let himself be bustled and smooshed around by loud, rude, greedy crowds of people all out gift-hunting, too. It didn't help that it was so damned  _cold_ outside and then so  _hot_ wherever you went inside.  

And, what should have been a five-hour drive was extended to an even longer one thanks to the shit roads and nasty weather –hell, Theon was surprised he even got out of the driveway this morning, let alone made it to King's Landing alive. 

But, because this was for Ramsay and because this was all part of the effort to give him a good Christmas, it was worth all the traveling and pushing and shoving and exhausted frustration.  

Besides, while Theon was out here he could try and find something good for his sister and his adopted family, as well as the girlies. Maybe even Roose.  

Fuck, though, he had no idea what to get the man.  

But he'd try his best, he really would, because he wanted to make a good impression on his landlord. He wanted this to be the absolute best Christmas for all the Boltons in his life, and a good start to that would be decent presents.  

Boy, was he glad he'd saved some extra money this year.  

And, thankfully, Ned, who was generous enough to lend him his extra car for the day, decided not to have him pay back the ass-load of gas money he would've surely owed him at the end of this trip.  

' _Consider it one of_ _my gifts to you,_ ' Stark had said.  

If only his biological father was as generous as his claimed one... 

After another fruitless trip to one of the stores, Theon got back in the car and looked into the bags he'd accumulated so far. There were three new collars for the girls; cufflinks for Mr. Bolton; some big book of artistic nude photos of women for Yara; one of those creepy, dress-up baby dolls for Sansa; a book about ancient female warriors for Arya; a stuffed wolf for baby Rickon; a book about psychics and mentalists for Bran; a beautifully-framed portrait of her five kids for Catelyn; a nice new brush for Ned to use on his favorite horse; a book on unsolved criminal cases for Jon; and a book on military war tactics and maps for Robb. 

Frowning, he murmured, "Did I buy too many books...? Shit, maybe they'll think I was lazy with my gift selection. Aw, I suck." 

Straightening back up in his seat and starting the car, he sighed. Oh well. Most of the Stark kids were usually pretty honest with him, and if they didn't like their gifts he'd just return the items and get them something else, no problem. A bit of a task-and-a-half, yes, but really, no problem. Okay, now, to find a gift for his... boyfriend? His... lover? Well, the whole reason he came here, anyway.  

He drove around a bit, trying his best to remember the layout of this stupidly-huge city while also carefully navigating through the holiday traffic, and it wasn't until he got towards the outer edge of downtown that he managed to find just the type of shop he was looking for all along.  

It was a hunting specialty store, small and tucked away between some other shops, but practically glowing like a gift from the gods to him. He drove around until he found a place to park, then got out and went for it.  

Inside, it was much bigger than it looked on the outside, running length-wise and with tons of hunting and camping items decorating the walls and display cases on every available surface. The selection was huge and more than a little over-whelming, and poor Theon had no idea where to start. He was not at all the experienced hunter that his adoptive father and uncle or his lover were. Shit, maybe he should have asked Ned to come with him? Doing that might have also made shopping for the Stark family much easier, too.  

Eventually, someone asked him if he needed assistance but he politely refused, thinking it'd be cooler if  _he_ found Ramsay's gift all on his own without any help. While he browsed he imagined himself saying, ' _Yes, I found it, I just had a feeling that's what you needed._ ' Ramsay would be so proud of him. 

After spending a few minutes of uselessly looking around, though, he finally just gave in and admitted to himself that he had no idea what he should be looking for, and he decided to ask one of the employees for help. They were at least very kind about it. 

About fifteen minutes later, he was headed back to the car, and in his hand was Ramsay's pretty, new Benchmade skinning knife, specially-boxed and gift-wrapped. He really hoped his young Bolton would like it... 

 Trying not to fret too much about the gifts he bought everyone, he got in the car and started the long, dull trip back home. He was drained of nearly all his spare cash and he knew the roads ahead were going to be wet and slick and slow, but he was satisfied and feeling successful. So, turning up the radio volume, he sang along to some New Order song and started driving. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon said he was going out shopping today, though  _why_ he was doing it the day before Christmas Eve Ramsay would never know. 

He himself had gone gift-shopping today, too, and had just gotten back with his present for Theon; some excitable, goofy-looking Pomeranian puppy, white with a few yellow, grey, and black smudges. It was tiny and annoying, giving little yipyips and crawling all over his lap the whole way home, but he knew how grateful Theon would be to get the little dog so he put up with it. 

When they had gotten home, the small pup had yipped a few times, and the girls must have heard it clear as day because they barked like crazy and rattled their kennel cages trying to get out. Ramsay laughed, thinking about how if the girls did meet Theon's puppy the tiny thing might very well become their newest chew toy.  

He briefly considered leaving it with them but thought better of it, so the little brat was now instead waiting down in the basement for its new owner, probably pissing all over the floor and chewing on things. Oh well, it was going to be Theon's dog, so he'd get to be the one to clean it up later. 

Ramsay was about to go feed his own dogs when the phone rang. He had a feeling he knew who it was, but he answered it anyway and his jaw set upon realizing he was correct. "Bolton residence." 

"Ramsay." 

Holding back a sigh, the addressed kept his tone even. "Yes, dad?" 

"What are your plans for Christmas this year?" 

Roose couldn't see it but Ramsay still went ahead and clutched his chest and stumbled back against the wall, dramatically crying out, "Wait, dad- hello, dad? Oh my god, I think there's something wrong with the connection, what was that?? I didn't hear you right, it- it sounded like... you were interested in my life!"  

Roose simply repeated the question, acting as if he hadn't just heard him. Not surprising, Ramsay could never seem to get a rise out of him. "What are your plans for Christmas this year?" 

His son rolled his eyes and sighed, figuring he'd better answer lest Roose keep on repeating himself. "Theon and I are going to be spending it here, in my house, hopefully with him sprawled in front of the fireplace while I thrust my fat cock in and out of his tight ass." 

"Charming. In-between your bouts of coupling, would you two be able to find time to come over for dinner tomorrow evening?"  

" _N_ _o_." Ramsay's answer was quick and firm.  

Ever since his brother Domeric's death, ever since his fat, whiny stepmother's death, it had been nothing but awkward, quiet Christmas dinners with those cold eyes passing passive-aggressive judgment on him just like they always had. Why would he want to spend another year like that, especially when he could instead be spending it getting laid and being near-worshipped? The choice was obvious.  

"Merry Christmas, dad." He hung up before Roose could respond, not that he probably would have.

 

* * *

 

 

When Theon came home that night it was late, very late. It was almost 2:35 am and he looked absolutely exhausted, and cold, too. He had a number of bags hanging from his hands and they looked as heavy as the ones under his eyes.  

"Long drive?" Ramsay quipped from his spot in the living room, grinning. 

Theon wasn't very amused. "Haw-haw."  

"Aw. You need help with those?" 

"No, thanks, though, babe. I don't wanna risk you sneaking and seeing your present." He started trudging up the stairs, adjusting his hold on the bags. 

_Good, because I wasn't going to get up, anyway._  "Glad you're home, by the way. I thought you'd flipped into a ditch and broke your neck." 

"Oh, lovely!" The ginger called down the stairs, sarcastic. 

" _Or_ that you'd gotten snowed in in the city or something!" Ramsay resumed watching tv until the other man came back downstairs in his pajamas, moving over to where his lover was for a moment to give a him a quick kiss before turning around and heading right back upstairs.  

"G'night, Rams, I'll-" he yawned. "Gods, I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Goodnight, my little not-dead-in-a-ditch Theon!" He only grunted in response at that.  

Well,  _Ramsay_ thought he was funny. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay was out of the house getting last minute things for dinner tonight as well as picking up his gifts from the boys, so Theon was home alone when the phone rang. Because of the lost cellphone incident almost two months ago, Ramsay had given him permission to give the house phone number to a select few people just in case it happened again.  

So, absently thinking it was one of his relatives, he went ahead and answered. "Hello, hello, Bolton Residence, this is Theon speaking." 

"Theon, good, you're just the man I wanted to talk to." 

He nearly dropped the phone, startled. Roose could probably hear his shuffling and fumbling before his rushed, sputtering voice came back on, "YES. Sorry, yes. Yes, sir. What's up- I mean, what did you need?" 

Roose didn't seem to be phased by the shyness, he just went right on talking, "I was wondering if you two were still having Christmas dinner tonight and if I should bring anything? Ramsay didn't say." 

Wait- Roose was coming? That would have been nice to know... Though, there was a good chance Ramsay had actually mentioned it at some point and Theon just wasn't paying attention at the time, probably while he was playing one of his games or being distracted with the dogs.  

Well! Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Theon could finally have a real conversation or two with Roose and try and make a better impression on him, and he'd also be able to give him his gift. Okay. Okay, yes, not so bad, alright. Theon could do this. 

He cleared his throat and nodded, "Unless you wanted to bring some wine or something, I think we're all set. Um, but uh, if you want to bring something, please, by all means, go ahead, sir." 

"Alright. And what time is dinner?" 

"We were hoping to have everything ready by seven, but feel free to show up whenever you please before then." 

"Wonderful," He could have sworn the elder Bolton had a hint of scheming or mischief to his tone, or at least something similar, but he was probably just imagining it. "See you then." 

Roose hung up and Theon stared down at the phone, a little surprised. He didn't get to think too much about it, though, because he suddenly heard some weird sounds coming from behind him.

What the hell, what was that scratching, did they have mice?  

Theon turned and thought he could hear it coming from the basement door, and he grabbed the broom when there were little pitched, yelp-y, squeaky noises. Holding it up, ready to strike, he stalked over there as quietly as possible, and with a pause, he listened closely while the noise seemed to increase. So, gathering his nerves, Theon grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open to find- 

-a  _puppy_! 

The broom dropped from Theon's hands and he sunk down to his knees, instantly getting jumped on by the tiny fluffball. He laughed and picked it up, smiling. "Hey! Hey, who are you?  _What_ are you? Oh- a little girl. Hi, hi, then, girlie!" 

The mystery dog licked his face and pawed at his chest, poofy tail wiggling excitedly. She then leapt out of the giddy man's lap and went trotting around the kitchen like she owned the place, and as he watched her bounce away he wondered if he had slipped outside and cracked his head or something and this was all just some kind of delusion caused by head trauma.  

Roose calling and confirming his coming to dinner? A random basement puppy? Yep, had to be a coma dream. 

But no, it seemed real enough. So, whose dog was she? Were they watching her for someone and Theon wasn't made aware of this just like he wasn't aware of the situation with Roose? Did she wander off from one of the distant neighbors and come all the way to their house? Or was she his? 

He really, really hoped the last one was it. She wasn't a big, tough dog like the girls out back, but to Theon, any dog was a good dog. 

He got up and followed after her.

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay came home about three hours later, and by then Theon had gotten the puppy's mess in the basement cleaned up and had spent plenty of time cuddling and playing with her. He was rolling around on the floor with her when his roommate walked in and he got up to greet him, bundle of wriggly fluff in his arms.  

The dark-haired man looked down at the mystery puppy, seemingly annoyed, and he grunted, "You weren't supposed to find that yet." 

Theon beamed, bouncing a bit like an excited kid. He couldn't help it. "So, she  _is_ mine!" 

"Yes, she's your gif-" Theon cut him off, practically pouncing on his lover, and he peppered that stubbly face of his in kisses. Ramsay grunted and pushed at him until he backed off. 

"Thank you so much, Rams, I love her! Gods, this is so great, you're too good to me!" 

He couldn't get over her, she was just so cute and sweet, and he was thrilled to finally be able to say he had a dog. Everyone else always seemed to have a pet, but he had yet to actually own one himself. The Stark's wolf-dogs were all owned by his adopted siblings, and the girls, as much as they loved him, were still very much Ramsay's... 

As mentioned earlier, the puppy wasn't even remotely big and powerful like Ramsay's girls or the Winterfell wolf-dogs, and she probably wouldn't be anything more than a spoiled little lapdog her whole life. But, she was Theon's and she was perfect, a little princess for the king in his eyes, and he couldn't be more grateful. He hugged her close and nuzzled her little face, smiling when she tried to nip his nose. 

" _Please_ , I think you're giving me cavities," Ramsay said, rolling his eyes as he stomped the snow off his boots. 

Theon laughed. "Oh whatever, Rams, we can't all be of stone hearts like you. Again, thank you, babe." He leaned in and kissed Ramsay's cheek, the other man moving to catch his lips with his own for a moment. 

When they pulled back, Ramsay looked down at the pup and gave her a scratch behind the ears. "Has she met the big girls, yet?" 

"Erm, no, not yet. I want her to but I'm kinda scared. What if they attack her? I mean, I don't think they will, but what if?" Her owner cuddled her a bit closer. 

Ramsay shrugged, moving into the kitchen to get a beer from the fridge. "It'll be fine. They'll have to meet her some time, better we introduce them ourselves than them meeting  _accidentally_ one day." 

He was right, Theon couldn't argue with that. He'd only known the dog for a few hours, but he was getting pretty attached pretty quickly, and the mere thought of her injured or worse made him sick. He sighed and nodded. "Alright, yeah, we'll introduce them tomorrow. Maybe the girls will be cool if I'm holding her while they meet her? And they listen really well to you, so I think we'll be okay." 

Ramsay himself didn't really gave a rat's ass and he didn't pretend to, he just chugged his beer and went to go flop on the couch and watch tv. Theon wandered over to sit with him, nestling in-between his thighs and settling against his front. The tiny Pomeranian followed suit, nestling herself on her new owner's chest. 

"What'd you name it?" Ramsay asked. 

"'Sunset'." 

He snorted, choking a bit on his beer, and then proceeded to repeat it in a dumb voice, "'Sunset'?" 

"Yes, ' _Sunset_ '. 'Sunny' for short. I named her after the Sunset Sea, by my old home at Pyke's Bay. I miss it sometimes, and when I think about the waters and the beaches it makes me happy. She makes me happy, so... ta-dahhh, my very own little 'Sunset'." Ramsay may not have liked the name but Theon did, and as far as he could tell the dog did, too, and that was all that mattered. He tilted his head to boop the pup's nose with his own. "I love you, Sunny." 

Ramsay scoffed behind him and he didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know the other man had just rolled his eyes.  

They sat quietly for a bit, and after a few minutes, Theon remembered something and asked, "Hey, did you get your presents from the guys? What'd they get you?" 

"Eh, only Ben, Damon, and Alyn got me anything. Ben got me a set of arrows for my bow, Alyn got me a new holster for my pistol, and Damon got me..." He jostled them both a bit as he reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. Moving his fingers aside, he pressed a small switch and a blade came flipping out of the handle it'd been locked in. "...a replacement skinning blade! Look at that, huh? Sunny, come here, let's try it out!" 

He put the sharp edge of the blade close to Sunny's side and she turned to sniff at it. 

"What say you, darling, a new hat? Gloves? Or maybe you want a cape collar... What? I'm only joking, you don't have to take it so seriously." 

Theon didn't even realize he was making a face, but it wasn't at Ramsay it was at that damn blade in his hand. He couldn't believe this. He'd spent weeks trying to think of a proper gift for his man and when he finally found one he thought was perfect, that cunt Damon came in and took that moment away from him. And not only that, but it looked better than the one he'd gotten, too, more hi-tech and steel-y, and it even fucking folded and flipped out. Theon's didn't do that, and it was only metal and wood so it wasn't as cool or pretty-looking.  

He hated to admit it, but he was honestly quite a bit upset and disappointed, not to mention obviously jealous. He could just imagine Ramsay opening his gift tomorrow morning and looking it over, bored, before setting it aside and moving on to the next thing. Fuck, that hurt, and it hadn't even happened yet. He felt dumb and was starting to get bummed out, so before Ramsay started asking more questions Theon sat up and cleared his throat, saying, "Hey, I just realized what time it is. We should start getting ready for dinner, yeah?"  

He knew the other man wanted to ask him what he was suddenly so bitchy about, but thankfully he didn't, instead just getting up and moving around him to head to the kitchen. "Yeah, alright. I'll check the roast real quick before I head up." 

Theon went upstairs to get ready, Sunny tucked under his arm as he thought she was too small to climb the stairs on her own. He probably would've just stayed in the same set of pajamas he'd been wearing all day, but since Roose was coming over he decided he wanted to look as casually respectable as possible. He had at least an hour until the elder Bolton got there, so he got a quick shower before he dressed in his nicest jeans and a cozy, dark red sweater Cat had knitted for him a few years back. He even tried to dress Sunny up, too, taking a little pink shoestring out of his sock drawer and tying it in a clumsy bow around her neck. Good enough, he figured.  

Before they left his room, he grabbed the box with the cufflinks he'd gotten for Roose and shoved it in his pocket so he could give it to the man later. 

Ramsay must have gotten ready quicker than Theon had, and he'd let Roose in at some point. The ginger could hear voices speaking low and hushed as he headed down the hall, but the closer he got the more uncomfortable the situation seemed. Roose sounded as calm as ever, but Ramsay sounded tense and angry.  

Theon hesitated, then continued down the stairs. When he got to the bottom he was greeted by Roose and Ramsay, the latter looking absolutely livid. He hadn't relaxed at all when he looked at his lover, in fact it seemed like he'd just gotten even angrier. Theon winced, hugging Sunny to his chest and looking right down at the floor, unable to meet those wide, icy eyes.  

"Theon, good to see you. Thank you for inviting me to dinner this evening," Roose said, making Theon's head snap right up.  

 The young Greyjoy started to stammer, feeling Ramsay's piercing gaze on him and hearing his sharp inhale, but before he could counter Roose's comment the older man spoke again, "It smells nice in here. I'm guessing roast?" 

Ramsay didn't say anything so Theon answered, "I- yes, it is. Here, let me take your coat, sir."  

"Thank you, Theon. It's good to see someone in this house has manners ingrained in them."

Theon silently begged Roose to stop antagonizing Ramsay, pleading with his eyes as his landlord shrugged out of his coat and scarf and handed them to the boy. Roose merely blinked before looking back at Ramsay, offering the bottle of wine he'd brought. "A drink?" 

Ramsay snatched the bottle out of Roose's hand and stormed into the kitchen, his father following behind him.  

While they were doing that Theon went to hang Roose's things up, absently rubbing Sunny with his thumb. It comforted him a little but he still felt so damn awkward and like he was in big trouble or something.  

Oh, and  _dumb_ , gods, did he feel dumb.  

He should have known Ramsay would have never wanted his dad over for dinner, fuck, how had he not seen through Roose's trick? 

_Because he's smarter than you by miles..._  

He sighed. He didn't want to go into the kitchen but dinner still needed to be served and had and he still wanted to make a good impression. Maybe if he did well with Roose tonight, Ramsay would be happy? Yeah. Yeah, maybe that would work. 

He set Sunny down and let her wander off while he went into the kitchen. The two Boltons were seated at either end of the table, staring each other down over their wine glasses. They didn't even look Theon's way when he cleared his throat and asked, "Dinner's ready. May I set your plates?" 

Finally, after a long, awkward moment for his tenant, Roose answered, "Yes, Theon. Thank you." 

He set to work on that while the two men sat there, and gods was it uncomfortable. He could practically feel the sparks flying off Ramsay any time he went near him, and he half-expected the quietly-raging man to suddenly bite his damn head off. Sunny must have sensed things were screwy, too; she wasn't following her master around at all, instead she'd laid right in the entry to the kitchen just watching him go back and forth. He didn't blame her, he wouldn't want to be near any of this either if he could help it.

After getting the table properly set, Roose started speaking again, to Ramsay this time, "How's work? I see you got that issue with the Reed paperwork sorted out."  

Theon couldn't help eavesdropping. Ramsay said he worked for his father at his law office, but he never actually said what he did, and the other boy was very curious. He never pictured Ramsay as the paperwork type, he thought he'd be doing security or something, honestly. 

"Yes, no thanks to that retarded skank of a secretary you hired, "Ramsay snapped. "She works better  _under_ the desks rather than uselessly rifling through them." 

"Maybe we should hire Theon as my secretary then, hm?" Theon's heart skipped a beat at that comment even if Roose looked like he was smirking faintly. Joke or not, that sounded way better than the cashier job he had now, and he started to say so. 

Ramsay cut him off, "He's fine where he is. Hire someone who's going to know what they're doing." 

Okay, that hurt. Maybe he was referring to that secretary he was pissed at, but still, just the fact that he thought Theon was perfectly content where was, was pretty irritating. What the hell? Hasn't he been listening to him at all? Not to mention, he still didn't manage to find out what Ramsay's actual job was. 

Roose sat back in his chair, swirling his wine in his glass. He chuckled, a sound that seemed absolutely foreign coming from him. "Telling me how to run my business now, Ramsay? Even though I've been managing it – _successfully_ - longer than you've been alive?"  

Ramsay scowled, fist clenching around his knife, and Theon spoke up quickly to try and clumsily diffuse the situation. "Did you have trouble getting here, Mr. Bolton? It took me all morning to shovel our driveway, and nearly two hours to get the lane done with the mower's plow. I can't imagine what the road was like, even with the sanding done on it, heh!" 

"Call me 'Roose', Theon, please. My landscaper wasn't able to come by, he got snowed into his own property, so I did mine with the mower plow like you did, but it was kind of pointless, wasn't it? Another four inches of snow came down right after all that hard work we did." 

Theon nodded. It was a little intimidating to be talking with Roose, but it was a nice, casual, dull conversation, so it was... well, pleasant. That, and it was keeping Ramsay and his father from killing each other, so Theon was glad for it. "Yeah, right? Like a big slap in our faces!" 

"Didn't seem to stop you from making your way over here, though, did it, dad?" Ramsay growled around a mouthful of roast.  

"Ah, aren't horses wonderful creatures?" He full-on smirked now, taking a bite of his own meal. 

Ramsay mumbled something about the animal breaking its leg from missing a step before Theon asked, "Oh, you rode your horse? Is he alright out there, or should I put him with the girls? Oh, no, wait, that might spook him..." 

He waved the suggestion off. "No, no, he's fine, don't worry about him. I had Ramsay place him in the garage. He won't be out there for too long, anyway." 

The conversation carried on like that for the rest of dinner, light and harmless, with the occasional commentary from Ramsay slipped in every now and again. Most of the chatter was directed Theon's way with Roose asking him questions about his family and the situation he'd been having with them, about his father's business, about his own job, about him in general, and even a polite question or two about Sunny. It was nice, and honestly never in his life did he ever think he'd be talking to Roose Bolton for more than one or two sentences, if that.  

After they were all finished eating, Theon cleaned up while Roose spoke to a calmer Ramsay, and the overall awkwardness of the evening seemed to be nearly gone, thank the gods... Sunny even came in and rested at her owner's feet while he worked.  

At around 9:30 it was time for Roose to leave, and it wasn't until he was in his coat and scarf and nearly out the door when Theon finally remembered his gift. "Oh! Roose, wait!" He stopped and turned to his tenant, brow raised. 

"Yes?" 

Ramsay eyed him, too, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box with the cufflinks. He went to hand them to Roose, suddenly feeling ridiculously shy about it, a million doubts going through his head at once. Ignoring them all, he handed it over anyway and hoped, prayed, the older man would at least pretend to like them until he was back at his own house.  

"I- um. I wasn't sure what you'd like, but I still wanted to go ahead and get you something anyway. I hope you'll like the gift, sir."  _Even if it's not very good..._  

Roose took the little box and opened it, expression unreadable. 

Theon's heartbeat quickened and he could already feel the embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, but then Roose surprised him by tugging his outer sleeves aside to remove his original cufflinks and replace them with the new ones. Even if he'd taken them out and tossed them in the trash the moment he got home later, the Greyjoy boy wouldn't care because that one gesture right there was just too great and had made him feel so good. He tried not to smile too much.  

"Thank you, Theon. You're very thoughtful. Merry Christmas, Greyjoy, and to you, Ramsay. Dinner was lovely." And with that he was out the door. 

Theon turned to Ramsay, grinning like a fool. "I can't believe it, he liked them!"  

Ramsay scowled, an odd expression on his face. Theon wasn't sure, but it looked like the other man was jealous or something. Whatever it was, it wiped the smile right off his face and he instantly felt guilty. "Um. Well, he was probably just being kind. They weren't anything to write home about, really." 

"Hm," He grunted brushing passed the guilt-ridden ginger to head into the living room where he stoked the fireplace a bit, then sat down on the floor in front of it.  

Well... Theon supposed it didn't need to wait 'til tomorrow. It was their Christmas, they could do what they wanted. While Ramsay was pouting over by the fire, Theon went to the tree and plucked his gift for him out from underneath it, then came to him and set it in his lap. 

Ramsay looked down at it, then up at his lover. "What? You want me to open this now?" 

"Yeah. I mean, if you want to, y'know, especially since I got Sunny early. It's up to you." 

"Sure, why not?" He watched him tear the neat wrapping paper off, grateful to the shop employee for doing the gift-wrapping for him so Ramsay's present wouldn't have to suffer through poor presentation.  

Ramsay's brows raised in interest upon seeing the familiar label, and when he opened the box and revealed the new knife he couldn't hide the big, toothy grin that spread across his face. All traces of bitter anger and jealousy instantly left him as he pulled the knife out to look it over and admire it like a child with a toy. 

"Ohh, this," He purred, voice soft and husky. "This is a fine gem, Theon." 

Theon beamed, heart pounding with pride. "Really? You think so?"  

"Yes," He whispered. The image of the firelight dancing in his wide, blue eyes was reflected in the smooth, clean metal of the new blade and it had Theon fascinated. He watched the other man admire and praise the skinning knife, hands and eyes roving all over every inch of its surface. It was damn near erotic. 

"I'm so glad you like it, Ramsay," Theon softly said. He meant it, too; ever since he'd seen Damon's gift earlier that evening – really, even before that-, he'd been fretting that his wouldn't be good enough, that it would disappoint his hunter in some way. He was relieved to see that was not at all the case, in fact, he was getting the exact opposite of what he thought was going to happen. 

"I do, my darling, I do. This is gorgeous, you chose a good one. Much, much better than what Damon gave me, I can assure you that." 

Theon practically lit up brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree.  

Ramsay set the knife down and turned his happy attentions over to Theon now, pupils growing more dilated as he crawled to him. His voice was now lower, huskier than when he'd been gazing at the skinning knife, and he purred, "You know, Theon, I should really give proper thanks for a present such as that one... don't you think?" 

Theon sat back, slumping a bit and getting a little dazed by the sudden heat and intensity radiating from his roommate. He swallowed thick and nodded quickly, sounding tongue-tied, "Yes. Yes, I do. Think. I do think that." 

"Yes," Ramsay continued his purring, rumbling tone as he slithered up like a predator, panther-like in his movements as he crawled over Theon until the other man was sprawled on his back and looking up at him. "You need to be rewarded, dear Theon." 

Theon was helpless to do anything as he lay there, body warmed by the fire at his side and the man above him, and though his arms were free he kept them draped uselessly around his head. He stared up into those shimmering blue eyes, a tremble running through his knees and a flutter causing his heart to pound harder, and he whimpered low in his throat.  

That tiny whimper stirred Ramsay's arousal further and the bigger man ducked down suddenly to place his mouth over Theon's pulse. He growled upon feeling it throb under his tongue, and he began to suckle and bite and mark at the skin there, causing Theon to mewl and writhe a bit. 

"Ramsay," he whispered. His pulse throbbed with a little more intensity under Ramsay's tongue as he realized then that this would finally be the night he lost his virginity to his boyfriend. He smiled up at the high ceiling, awkward and silly and bright, a soft, breathy laugh escaping him. 

Feeling that laugh more than hearing it, Ramsay lifted his head to see Theon with a lopsided, shy smile on his face. He raised a brow in question. 

Theon shook his head and shrugged, eyes flickering off to the side as his cheeks seemed to flush. "S'just... I'm happy. I'm glad it's you." 

It took Ramsay a brief moment to get what Theon meant and when he did he gave his own grin, one that was proud and with just a hint of smugness. He was more than pleased to be laying claim over this part of Theon, just one more thing he'd have control over, just one more thing that would be completely and wholly 'Ramsay' to Theon.  

He asked, "Are you excited, Theon?" 

"Yes," the boy answered, and he was. "'M... well, I'm scared, too. I know it'll hurt, but you're sweet to me and you'll make it feel good, right? So, I'm scared, but I'm definitely excited." 

"Wonderful." The dark-haired man was excited, too, wanting so badly to see Theon's face the instant that first wave of pain and discomfort hit him when he was really and truly full, but he also wanted to see that beautiful body sprawled and submissive underneath him, writhing and begging for release.  

He leaned in again to brush Theon's curly hair aside and murmur into his ear, "Take your clothes off, darling, show yourself to me."  

"Yes, Ramsay," Theon huffed, hands moving down to slip under the hems of his sweater and shirt. He pulled them up and away, tossing the clothing off to the side before he started at his belt. 

Ramsay sat back, eyes watching with a heated intensity that he knew Theon could feel without having to look up. He was already good and hard when he was inspecting his new skinning knife, but each inch of exposed, pale skin in front of him only served to make him ache and throb even more in his jeans, and he began to grow impatient.  

Finally, though, his beautiful Theon was lying naked before him, and though he was impatient and his cock was begging for release, he still took a long moment to indulge in the sight. To him, Theon was like the subject of a Michelangelo painting; thick thighs and wide hips, soft but powerful muscles all over a sturdy frame... and of course, all that rich, pale skin, as smooth as silk under his own rough, heavy hands. To him, it was a body just begging to be used, bruised, bloodied, and worn down, and no one was more willing than him to make it happen. 

"Rams?' Theon spoke up after being stared at for a while. It was flattering, but the distracted way Ramsay was staring made him wonder if the other man was having second thoughts. He lifted a foot to give him gentle prodding in his chest. 

Ramsay snapped out of his daze and took hold of Theon's foot, pressing a kiss to the top of it. "Still here, darling," he murmured, then proceeded to kiss his way down the length of Theon's leg, stopping when he got to the top of his thigh. He could feel the heat radiating off his lover's erection but he ignored it entirely and earned himself a huffy whine for the neglect.  

He clucked his tongue; what an entitled brat.    

Ignoring the light thrusting towards his face, he sat up and back. Theon pouted, but he didn't persist in his neediness, choosing to watch his man remove his own clothing, instead. Ramsay appreciated the attention, and he liked the way those green eyes seemed to burn with need at the sight of his stocky, muscular frame and the fat, heavy length protruding from between his thighs.  

Yes, he liked that a lot. But, he  _loved_ the way that body seemed to shrink back some with slight intimidation at the sight of him. 

"What's wrong?" He cooed. "Changing your mind, sweetness?" 

Theon hesitated, then quickly shook his head. He threw on the bravado and cleared his throat, tone more casual and confident, "Naw, of course not. S'just... ha, s'just a whole other league here from blowjobs and jerking each other off, you know? 

He visibly swallowed as his eyes drifted back down to Ramsay's cock, and he bit his lip in hesitation. 

Ramsay sighed and resisted the very loud voice in his head that screamed at him to pin Theon down to the floor and just start splitting him in half.  _Come now, he was a good boy, let him have his reward. ...Even if he is being a shy little pussy about it._ "How about you prep yourself really, really well for me?" 

Theon was grateful for Ramsay's patience and understanding. "Yeah?" He stood and scurried out of the living room, heading upstairs and calling over his shoulder. "Yeah, alright! Be right back!" 

Ramsay sat back and played with his knife while he waited. 

Upstairs, the nervous little Greyjoy was up in his room looking through his nightstand drawer for the lube and condoms he kept there. The lube got its use, but the condom box had never been opened –well, until tonight, that is. He frowned down at the size listed on the box, not sure if these would fit Ramsay. 

Remembering just how big the other man was, he decided the condom box would continue to remain unopened and tossed it back in the drawer.  

They were both healthy and clean anyway, right? 

As he turned to leave he saw a sleepy Sunny nestled in a pile of his laundry on the floor. He wasn't sure when she had gone up to his room but he was surprised that she'd even made it up there. He went over to her and petted her fluffy little body, whispering, "Hey, tiny princess. Daddy's gonna go be inappropriate with Rams, so don't come down at all, alright? I don't want you to get traumatized." 

She only yawned in response and buried her face under her paws, grunting and sighing, and Theon stood, heading back down. 

"There you are, lovely," Ramsay said, setting the knife aside and getting comfortable. He looked like he was thrilled, ready to be entertained by his nervous companion. "Should I get my camera ready?" 

Theon was feeling awkward and hesitant enough, he certainly didn't need Ramsay's help with that. The ginger rolled his eyes to try and cover up some of his nerves, sitting down and slicking his fingers up with the lube he'd retrieved. "Rams, please, c'mon." 

Ramsay did shut up at that, focus now moving onto the hands and spreading thighs of the boy in front of him. He exhaled sharply when Theon's long, slicked fingers travelled down and began to tease at that virginal hole, eliciting a soft, shy moan from those pretty pink lips.  

How lucky was he, huh? A quality skinning knife at his side that he couldn't wait to use and a scared little virgin putting on a sleazy show for him like some kind of camwhore. 

He really was spoiled this Christmas. 

Theon, though, wasn't feeling as enthusiastic about his presentation just yet. He'd been naked in front of Ramsay before, hell, they'd showered together and pleasured each other plenty of times in the last couple of weeks. But this was different, this was much more  _personal_ , and he felt so much more vulnerable and exposed. He knew it was just Ramsay watching him, and yes, he trusted the other man, but there was just something absolutely nerve-wracking about it that made him feel like prey on display for a predator.  

Still... 

He wanted to please his man as best he could tonight, and he wanted to be ready for him. It was their night and he didn't want to mess things up, he wanted to do things the best he knew how and make it all memorable for them.  _C'mon, Theon, you're tougher than this. You're made of salt and iron! You're attractive and fun, enough that you caught Ramsay Bolton's attention,_ _so_ _do this for him. Put on a good show and then go make love to him, make him see stars!_  

Made braver by his own encouragement, as well as by the firey lust in Ramsay's bright blue gaze, his fingers teased at himself with a bit more persistence. Another moan left him, louder this time, and he prodded at his hole until he finally pushed a finger in down passed the last knuckle. After a few moments, a second finger followed.  

The weak, keening whimper of his name made Ramsay's nostrils flare and his jaw set tight. His fingers had a white-knuckle grip in the rug behind him.

For the next four minutes, Theon did his best to be the prettiest, most pleasured slut he knew how. He'd closed his eyes and gotten comfortable, then started pretending like it was just him in the room, as if it was just another one of his solitary masturbation sessions in the privacy of his own room. No other eyes, no worries, no self-conscious fretting, there was only his fingers stretching and rubbing him open, and there were only the soft, breathy sounds coming from his mouth. He focused on the way his fingers felt inside him, just as he always did when he pleasured himself, and he imagined it was Ramsay fingering him. Imagined it was those thick, calloused digits going deep and scissoring him apart, making him mewl and quiver with every brush against his prostate.  

By the time he fit a third finger deep into himself he was beginning to quiver and shine with sweat in the firelight, his free arm barely managing to keep him hoisted up on his elbow. With that third finger in, he felt comfortable enough to ride his hand harder, faster, and he rolled his hips with his moans becoming louder and a tad more desperate. He was getting close and he hadn't even touched his cock yet, but the feeling inside him, those thoughts racing through his head as they got more and more filthy- 

His eyes shot open and he yelped in surprised when he was suddenly pounced upon, having completely forgotten that he wasn't alone, that the real Ramsay was right in front of him watching. Heart going a hundred miles an hour under his chest, he panted and blushed deeply from embarrassment, but his eyes held his lover's. "Gods, I-I got carried away...!" 

Ramsay didn't respond other than with that intense, blazing expression on his face and in his eyes. He looked like a man possessed, and those icy orbs never left Theon's face as his hand blindly groped around for the lube. When he found it he wasted no time, quickly slicking his length up before placing it right at Theon's wet, sensitive hole. 

Theon gulped and went to cover himself but his hand was quickly slapped away, and when he looked down, Ramsay's low, husky growl of ' _look at me_ ' pulled the boy's attention right back up. As soon as his timid stare was back with Ramsay's own hungry one, that thick cock was shoving right into him, jostling him along the rug and knocking the wind right out of his lungs. He gave a pitched gasp, eyes widening and mouth going agape, hands clamping right down on Ramsay's wrists on either side of him. He squeezed them hard, gasping again once he caught his breath, and a pained whimper of his roommate's name squeaked out of his throat.  

Ramsay didn't stop his hips, not until he couldn't bury himself any deeper. He stared down at Theon's face and reveled in the pain and shock he saw flashing across it, reveled in the sounds that came tumbling out of those lips, reveled in the too-tight heat squeezing all around his cock. He shuddered and groaned, closing his eyes and bowing his head to rest it against Theon's heaving chest, wrists pulling free from the bruising grip around them to slide his arms underneath his lover's torso and hold him close.  

"Oh, Theon," he rasped, and he continued speaking as he worked on a trail of kisses and bites all the way up to the previous mark he'd left on Theon's throat. "My dear Theon... you feel that? Do you feel me?" 

_Isn't it obvious?_ _Of course_ _I f_ _eel_ _you_ _, I_ _feel_ _every inch, Ramsay._ "It hurts..." 

Ramsay groaned and nuzzled the red-head's neck, smiling against it. "Relax, relax. You're tougher than that, aren't you? 

After a long moment he felt Theon start to relax just like he'd told him to. Those thick thighs had spread a little wider and that hole didn't feel like such a vice grip, and then there were strong arms slipping around his shoulders to hug him closer and a kiss being placed at the top of his head. He happily obliged when Theon finally asked him to start moving, and right away his hips were going at a steady pace. 

Theon groaned a little at the slight discomfort, wishing Ramsay would slow it down just a bit. He knew his lover adored rough sex but it was his first time doing this and he wanted things to be a little less frantic. He didn't speak up about it, though, didn't make any requests, because as uncomfortable as it was he still believed it would get better. 

He was sore, but he wasn't a quitter. 

"Wait, Rams- let me try something, please?"  

"What?" Ramsay grunted, panting a bit. "No, you're fine, this is good. Fuck..." 

Theon ignored the other man's annoyed protesting as he wriggled free from the hold on him, then he shifted and got on all fours, now presenting his ass to his boyfriend. "Here, like this, okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay," the black-haired man didn't care what the position they were in as long as he was going to be balls-deep in Theon and claiming him with his seed. He quickly got his dick lined back up with Theon's ass and then pulled him back by his hips, impaling him with a loud, raspy groan. 

Theon matched that sound with his own, eyes widening a bit in surprise before they fluttered closed as he sighed a longer, shakier moan. This position made it far more comfortable for him, or at least, it did right after Ramsay's cock suddenly dragged against his prostate. He rolled his ass back against Ramsay, encouraging him to do that again, looking back over his shoulder with a plea in his eyes. Of course, that thrust was repeated and Theon's needy look was taken as permission to continue those previous rough thrusts as well. They were still a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad this time around, and soon enough Theon was thrusting right back against them, mewling and panting soft.  

"Harder, Ramsay, please," he whispered at one point, head bowed and hands clutching at the rug. It was hot, so hot in the living room, and he was sweating and he felt like he was going to suffocate, but he couldn't get enough of it.  

Ramsay did as he was asked, hips pistoning hard and fast as they could go, and he pressed himself right against Theon's back, biting and kissing and nipping all over his shoulders. As he tilted his head to give another bite to the back of Theon's neck, his eyes caught sight of his knife glinting up at him from the floor. His erection throbbed when he saw the tool and he reached for it, then sat up with it in his hand. Looking down, he watched the muscles under that pale stretch of back as they rippled and worked with each arch and thrust. His own movements slowed as he was suddenly overwhelmed with thoughts of using the knife to slice along Theon's back and peel the skin away so he could expose those raw, working muscles to himself. 

Gods, just the mere mental image of that alone was enough to make his hips stutter and buck, and before he knew it he was burying his cock back into Theon as deep as he could and filling him with his cum. He shuddered hard and groaned, clumsily bucking a few more times, and as he was finishing he moved his hand in one quick swipe, drawing blood. 

Theon felt something sharp whip right across his lower back and he yelped, jolting at the pain and tightening around Ramsay a little too hard, making him hiss. He tried to turn around to ask what happened, but the back of his head was grabbed and he was being forced to face forward again. "Ramsay-?"  

The boy shut up when his boyfriend's dick started plowing against his spot once more, this time focusing solely on it. It took his breath away and made him see little stars, made his arms weak and his thighs quiver like crazy. After a few moments of that he, too, was climaxing, jerking his hips and spilling his seed on the rug underneath him. "O-oh, Rams!" 

"That's it, baby, come for me. You're beautiful..." Ramsay hummed, thrusts slowing gradually until they halted. His eyes weren't really on the rest of Theon, too distracted with the lines of deep red dribbling from the cut on the other man's back. He brushed the pad of his thumb through the blood and brought it to his lips, groaning softly at the taste and feeling as if he'd get hard all over again. 

Theon, though, coming down from his afterglow, was quickly beginning to feel the effects of having been a roughly-handled former virgin. He winced at the sore sensitivity in his backside and at the strange, sharp sting in his lower back. Pulling himself away from Ramsay, he laid his tired body down and sighed, figuring his Bolton must have gotten a bit frenzied and scratched him too hard or something.  

That is, until he saw the smudge of blood on Ramsay's lips, as well as the drops being licked off his thumb. He furrowed his brows and propped himself up on an elbow. "Is that blood? What the fuck, where did that come from?" 

"Ohh, I'm not sure, I think a knife may have been involved." 

There was a pause and a look of disbelief, then, "You  _cut_ me?" 

Ramsay feigned a playful, innocent look, but when Theon didn't find it at all amusing he got up and disappeared into the kitchen for a minute, then came back with a cold, wet towel in his hand and he kneeled down behind Theon to press it against the wound.  

"I did. I like a little roughness when I'm intimate, as you know, but I suppose I got too carried away this time. Are you mad?" 

Theon sighed and rubbed his face, and he shook his head. "No, 'm not mad, it's just that it fucking hurt and now I'm bleeding. It's also kind of scary... You can't just do that shit without asking, love." 

_'The hell I can't, just you try and stop me._  "You're right. Do you forgive me?" 

Theon was quiet a moment, then he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Just be careful next time, alright?" He reached back and gave Ramsay a playful little shove. Ramsay grunted, and he pressed the towel a little harder but Theon didn't seem to notice.  

They sat like that for a few minutes before Ramsay went and got them a few pillows and the blanket off the couch and then laid himself down to spoon with Theon, back to the fireplace. The light was dim at this angle but he could still see faint hints of the bruises his biting and suckling at that pale skin had left. Tracing his fingertip along one larger bitemark, he asked, "So. Your first time, how was it? Everything you ever wanted and more? Were all your little virgin fantasies fulfilled?" 

Theon blushed at the teasing and closed his eyes, leaning into the touching on his shoulder. He sighed, then chucked a bit under his breath. "Well, it wasn't anything like I thought it'd be, but I mean, whose first time goes exactly as they planned, huh? It was great, though, and..." 

"And?" Ramsay pressed. 

"And, um," Theon hesitated before rolling over, a look of apprehension in his eyes. Finally, he said, "I love you." 

Ramsay looked only a little surprised, and there was no real hint of mocking in his expression as he asked, " _Do_ you?" 

Theon, taken aback by that just a tad, thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I love you, Ramsay. You don't... think it's too early or something, do you?" 

No. No, he didn't. In fact, Theon was falling for him faster than he thought and he sure as hell wasn't going to argue with that, not when it was to his advantage. He shook his head and gave his softest smile, brushing the sweaty hair from Theon's forehead. "No. I love you, too, Theon. Come here now, darling, let's get some sleep so we can be rested up for Christmas tomorrow, eh?"  

The happy little ginger beamed and he nestled himself right up against Ramsay's chest, closing his eyes. Those strong arms wrapped around him and held him close, made his sweat-cooled skin feel warmer, and the heartbeat against his cheek comforted him. 

He was sore and sticky in his backside, and his knees and palms ached from carpet burn and having held his weight, plus that damn cut in his back burned like a nasty, oversized papercut. It was a strange, aggressive way to lose his virginity, not at all like the soft, slow, careful lovemaking he'd originally imagined it would be, but still, he was proud of himself and content with what happened. He was also glad it was Ramsay that took him, so, hey, he could at least say he was claimed by the man that he loved.

Maybe one of these days he could ask Ramsay for something a little more romantic, a little gentler, and perhaps his boyfriend would oblige?

_That'd be lovely_ , he thought. A trip down to the coast where they could rent a cottage by the beach, and Ramsay would make him sigh and quiver to the sounds of crashing waves.

He fell asleep with those thoughts in his head and his body held tightly in Ramsay's arms.


	6. Tiff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for abuse and Ramsay being a bad, bad person.

Theon came home that afternoon, exhausted and on the verge of tears due to frustration from a tough, trying day. 

He had the first shift, so he was in bright and much-too-early. Even earlier than he should have been, actually, considering he had to help plow the driveway enough to have Ramsay drive him to work, and boy what a shitty drive  _that_ was. They were both freezing and in exhausted, foul moods, and they sniped at each other the entire way with neither of them apologizing, so the tone seemed to be set for the day right from the start.

Despite getting up much earlier than he should have, and despite Roose having a snowplow coming down the road nearly every morning, the excess snow still caused trouble for the drive and he still ended up being late. His boss reprimanded him, and then had him stocking shelves, and of course it was his luck that he'd ended up accidentally spilling and breaking a few jars, thus making a mess for himself to clean up. Another lecture, then he was back to shelving, then off to cashiering the rest of his shift. 

Now, the usual holiday rush may have been over, sure, but the winter rush was not, and no matter how much snow and ice were covering the town's roads, the store was still packed with customers. It was another non-stop day for Theon, and maybe it was just because of how the earlier part of the day had gone, but it sure seemed like only the rudest, most impatient customers had decided to come to the store for his shift, or at least, had decided to go to  _his_ register. 

It was all lousy and so, so frustrating, so much so that he very nearly considered just up and quitting. 

If it wasn't for the mere thought of disappointing Ramsay, he would have quit, he was sure.

Still stuck at that job or not, he was just so relieved to be home, and right now nothing was more important to him than getting back in his house and flopping on his warm, cozy bed. 

Theon set his bike on the porch and kicked the snow and ice off the tires, then unlocked the front door and went inside. He was shivering and chapped from the biting cold outside, but he was instantly warmed by the happy barking of the girls out back and his little Sunny at his feet, as well as the heat on the inside of his home. It was nice, so damn comforting, and it made him smile a little despite everything that had happened just a few hours ago. Rubbing his glossy, sleepy eyes, he got out of his winter gear and shoes and headed upstairs to his attic room, closing the door behind himself and Sunny before flopping on the bed with a groan. 

"Sunners, m'love, don't judge me, okay? Daddy just needs a break from today," Theon said as he stuffed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a few items. In his hand was a lighter, a slip of paper, and a little baggie of weed, and he looked over at Sunny with a bit of a guilty expression. Being a dog, however, she didn't seem to care at all and merely crawled over to one of her chew toys. He looked back down at the items in his hand and mulled over whether or not he should use them. 

While he was on the only break he managed to score during that terribly-long shift, a coworker of his noticed his mood and offered him some weed to help him relax and feel better. Well, he though, what could it hurt? He'd earned it, hadn't he? So, he bought some and took it home with him, but now that he stared at the bag he wasn't sure if he regretted it or not.

Hey, he'd already spent the money, so why not? No point in letting it go to waste!

"Let's see if I remember how to do this... been, what, half a year?" He snorted at himself and began to roll a joint. It reeked and it wasn't very good, but he was excited, and when he was ready he lit it, then flopped onto his back again to heave a smoky, coughing sigh. It was indeed garbage weed, but he was content, and he hummed and closed his eyes, taking an occasional drag from the joint as he lay there. 

Both the weed and his exhaustion had him a little distracted, so he didn't really notice Ramsay coming home a few minutes later, but he did hear Sunny pawing and whining at the door so he got up to let her out, then went to lie back on the bed. 

He was starting to calm down more, and he began to doze a bit as he stared up at the ceiling. Yeah, this was shitty weed, but it definitely helped.

It had been Ramsay's day off, so he spent most of that free time out running errands this morning and afternoon. He'd wasted all that time getting Theon to work that morning, so he figured since he was already out in town, why not get some things done? 

He'd bought a few extra bags of salt and sand for the drive way and the rest of Dreadfort Lane, as well as a new tool set, some fresh snow chains for the truck's tires, and, of course, some extra groceries and dog food just in case they were snowed in again. So, you could say he was in a good enough mood.

Well, that was until he'd stepped upstairs after putting everything away.

 He'd seen Theon's bike on the porch, so, assuming the other man had gotten home, he'd gone to check on him when he wasn't greeted or pestered at any point. As he ascended the second flight of stairs, he wasn't expecting that foul skunk-y smell slithering along the third floor from the open attic. 

At first, he'd thought that idiot had gotten sprayed by a skunk. His second thought had him wondering if Theon had gotten a hold of some shitty weed from somewhere. He hoped for the ginger's sake it was the former reason, as he could already feel his anger rising as he climbed the stairs. 

When he stepped into Theon's room, he saw the boy sprawled back on his bed and lying under a slight haze. The joint held between those long fingers was all the confirmation Ramsay needed, and he instantly saw red.

Stomping towards him, he snatched the half-used joint out of the other man's hand and threw it to the floor, grinding it out with his boot. Theon sat right up, and not only did he have the nerve to give Ramsay that disbelieving look, he actually had the audacity to bitch at him, too. 

"What the fuck! You prick, I spent money on that, I wasn't done! You just wasted it!"

"Who gave that to you? Where did you get that garbage?"

"No one  _gave_ it to me, I bought it," he snapped. Ramsay's hands twitched at his sides and his nostrils flared. 

"I don't care how you got that shit, you knew, you fucking  _knew_ , I didn't want anything like that in my house. I don't even let the boys bring it in."

"Well, I'm  _not_ the boys, and you know what, just because I'm dating you it doesn't mean I'm under any stupid rules, especially when it's partly my house now! I pay rent, I clean up, I help with the dogs-"

" **Don't**. Don't you dare speak to me like that, Greyjoy." Ramsay's words were low and threatening, but Theon didn't seem to care, he just continued disrespecting him. The Bolton son couldn't believe the things he was hearing, the  _tone_ that was coming out of that snotty little mouth. He'd given Ramsay attitude before but nothing like this, and at least during those previous times the brat seemed to know enough to apologize.

"Oh, and that's another thing-  _I_ deal with  _your_ pissy moods, but when it's coming from me it's suddenly not okay? You know, you're not the only one who gets upset around here, Ramsay, but oho, no, no, it's not the same, so I guess I just can't get a little respect from you or anyone else when I'm down, it seems!" 

" ** _Theon_**."

"I just- I just wanted to chill out and calm down, I wanted to forget work for a while, I wanted to forget all the weird, stupid, frustrating shit I've been putting up with lately. Fuck, I can't even have one little thing, one stupid little thing, can I? I get a fucking shit day from my fucking shit job, and then I can't even go to my own home without some overbearing bastard-"

Ramsay had never seen Theon's eyes so big and hurt as when he'd hit him that first time. 

His open palm collided hard with the other man's cheek, knocking the ginger's head to the side and making his teeth rattle, eliciting a surprised yelp of pain. 

Theon, stunned, shakily lifted a hand to his stinging, red cheek and looked at his roommate, mouth agape and eyes wide and watering. "Ramsay... Ramsay, you hit m-"

He gasped when his hand was violently wrenched away and he was struck in the face again, and then a third time right after. 

Ramsay couldn't help it, he was all movement and no control, and it just... it felt so fucking good to punish him, to take that terrible attitude away from him so quickly, to see the fear and hurt and confusion in those big, green, watery eyes. He'd been so godsdamned sick of the moods and the whining lately, and it just felt so wonderful to finally show Theon how he really felt about it.

Theon raised his free hand up and tucked his head down, huddling in on himself as he started to cry, asking repeatedly around his choked sobs, " _Why_?? I don't understand, Ramsay, I don't! I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please just  _stop_!!"

Despite Greyjoy's weight and muscle tone, it seemed nearly effortless for Ramsay to lift him off the bed and charge over to the closest wall where he slammed him against it. His normally strong, brave Theon suddenly felt like a weak little baby bird in his hands. 

The smaller male didn't fight back, too scared and shocked, instead he just pressed himself against the wall and sank down a bit, trying to get away. Ramsay grabbed him by the throat and pulled him right back up to his feet, pinning him there. His fingers gripped tight, so tight, and they squeezed like a vice.  _Now_ Theon fought back, hands flying up to grab and pull at his attacker's wrist while he struggled to breathe through the pressure on his windpipe. He clumsily kicked and punched out at his boyfriend, catching him lamely in the legs and chest and arms, though a few lackluster punches did get him in the head and face. 

Ramsay could have killed him. He wanted to, he was still so angry. His eyes were wide open but the edges of his vision were black and hazy and his blood pounded so loudly in my ears, so he almost didn't see the tears slip out of those fear-stricken eyes, he almost didn't hear those choked, broken pleas for mercy.

"Rams... Ramsay... p-please...!" His fighting grew weaker until he was slumped and beginning to lose consciousness.

Another second passed before the bastard finally let go and stepped back from him. Theon dropped to the floor with a loud, rattling gasp and his hands immediately moved up to protect his throat from any further assault, eyes big and wet, body shivering in fear and wracked with quiet sobs. 

Ramsay's own breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking. His right palm was stinging and red, and when he looked down at the toe of his boot there was a spreading puddle forming before it. 

Theon had pissed himself at some point. 

After a long, long minute or more, Ramsay exhaled slowly and turned his attentions back to his cowering lover, tone soft and calm and verging on gently scolding, "Theon... we did a very bad thing, you and I. I shouldn't have hurt you like that, but you shouldn't have been so bad to me. Those things you said and how you said them, well, it was very,  _very_ disrespectful and mean. You hurt my feelings, Theon. You know that, right? You know how you hurt me?"

He waited for an apology but Theon only whimpered in response, face screwing up with his crying before he buried it in his hands. The red-head openly sobbed now, heaving and shaking, and he didn't look back up at his boyfriend, not even when he'd started to leave the room.

Ramsay didn't realize how hard he was until it was all over and he'd closed the door behind himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon didn't come downstairs for a long time. 

It wasn't until well after 11:30 that night when Ramsay heard him on the stairs, and when he finally made his appearance into the living room with a change of clothes, he was disheveled and slouching. His eyes were red-rimmed, glossy, and puffy from crying, and his cheeks were streaked with drying tears. The left side of his face was a dull red with shades of purple and blue, and underneath that, Theon's throat was wrapped in a deeply-bruised ring.

He was lovely, very, very enticing in this state.

Ramsay nearly quipped that Theon was ' _just_ _his_ _type_ ', but decided against it and instead moved aside on the couch and patted the spot next to him. 

The jittery man hesitated, eyeing the other warily for a moment like a cautious doe, but he soon shuffled over and sat down in the offered spot. Not too close, though, and that detail did not go unnoticed. Theon's eyes were downcast, but Ramsay could see them peering off to the side and watching his hands, and when he purposely moved them the red-head flinched.

"Hello, Theon," Ramsay said.

"Hi." His voice was low and hoarse, and his breathing sounded a little rough.

"How are you feeling?"

He shuffled his feet some, toes curling in the carpet, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. It took him a moment before he finally said, "Bad. 'M feeling bad, Rams. I-I mean... I don't understand, it was just  _weed_! I didn't do anything  _wrong_!"

Ramsay tilted his head. "Didn't you?"

"What?" Theon looked at him, eyes welled with tears and confusion written all over his face. "No- what, no, I didn't!"

Tone softening almost to a whisper, Ramsay leaned in bit, eyes wide and accusing as he spoke slowly. "You did. You did, Theon. You really don't remember those things you said?"

"...I- fuck, I dunno, I guess? What " _things_ "?! What does it matter, I was angry and-!"

"-And in your anger, you said some very, very hurtful things. You wounded me, Theon. In fact, I think you said those things just to set me off because you knew how upset they would make me. Why else would you say those things?"

Theon made a face and he looked down at his shaky hands, trying hard to remember just what the hell it was he'd said up there. Was whatever he'd said really that bad to warrant him getting attacked like that? 

No. No, he didn't believe it was, not at all. 

...But Ramsay sounded so sure, and he really had been pissed... he'd never been angry enough to hurt Theon like that before, so maybe...?

"I can see you're struggling to remember. Maybe that lack of oxygen really did a number on your head, hm? Let me remind you, then. You said that I was useless, that I did nothing for you, that you were better than me. You said that I didn't know what was best for you and that you didn't need to be 'told what to do by some worthless  _bastard_ '." 

He'd said that last word with such venom that Theon was nearly worried he'd get struck again. 

He'd shrunk back some, shoulders tense, and he stared down at his fidgeting hands, trying very hard to remember if he had really said what Ramsay claimed he did. The 'bastard' bit rang a faint bell, but nothing else did. That faint bell, though, was just enough to make him doubt himself, and it also made him think the strangling had indeed caused him to forget about all the other nasty things. 

Ramsay watched as Theon thought it over, and he saw when the boy had a faint hint of recollection and started trying to make sense of it all. He delighted in the way Theon jolted under his touch when he set his hand on one of those tense shoulders to pull him up against his side. "Do you remember now?"

The red-head went rigid and he huddled into himself. He spoke quietly, sounding timid and ashamed, "I... I think so? I'm sorry, Ramsay, I'm just so confused by all of this."

A finger hooked under his chin and tilted his head up to make his eyes meet with the icy blues of Ramsay's. The other man's expression was soft and kind, but those eyes were anything but as he said, "You still understand what you did to make me hurt you, though, right?" 

Theon searched those eyes for any trace of warmth but he found none. That scared him. Suddenly, he pulled back, voice sounding a tad frantic while his eyes darted between Ramsay's face and his hands. "Are you still mad at me?"

A muscle in Ramsay's jaw twitched but he didn’t move, just did another puppy-like tilt of his head. "No. I have forgiven you. Are you going to answer my question?"

Nothing about how Ramsay just reacted made Theon feel even remotely better, but he still chose to feign calming down as best he could and tried to ignore the feeling in him that told him to bolt. Didn't all those nature programs say to appear calm and unthreatening to an aggressive animal?

Not that Ramsay was being particularly aggressive at the moment, but considering what happened earlier he wasn't exactly sure what was going on with his boyfriend anymore.

"Yes. Yes, sorry, Ramsay," he meekly said, eyes going back down to his lap. "I understand. I'm sorry, I won't do it again, okay?"

Ramsay smiled now, a look of satisfaction crossing his features. "Good, thank you. You know, I'm glad we talked this out. I feel better about it and I think we both understand each other a little better now, don't you agree?"

Theon wanted to say that no, he didn't, and that he didn't understand Ramsay or any of this at all, that it actually felt like a nightmare he hadn't woken up from yet and it was scaring him. He bit his tongue, though, and instead nodded his head and forced an awkward, crooked smile. "Yeah. Yeah, Rams. Thanks. I'm sorry."

_What_ exactly he was sorry for, he still wasn't sure. 

He got up from the couch, a little unsteady in his movements, but he was quick to move aside when Ramsay reached out to assist him. He cleared his sore throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders up and his arms close at his sides. "I'm gonna... go get a bath, then go to bed."

Ramsay ignored the slight against his polite gesture, chalking it up to Theon still being a bit frail after what happened. After all, when you discipline a pet don't they show a little caution next time they're around you? 

The dark-haired male got comfortable on the couch again. "Get some rest, darling. Ah, but don't forget to gargle some salt water first for that throat of yours."

Theon started to head out of the living room but stopped in the entry, glancing back slightly over his shoulder. "Rams?"

"Yes, pet?"

_I shouldn't even have to say_ _this in the first place_ _._  "Please. Don't ever touch me like that again. Please, Ramsay?"

His lover looked at him, wearing a mask of sweetness and sincerity. "Of course, pet. I promise."

Theon wasn't quite sure he believed that, but maybe they just needed some time. He offered another small, forced smile and then started up the stairs, heading to the guest bathroom. 

While the bath ran, he went to the mirror to look himself over. He hadn't seen himself yet, he couldn't bear to see the damage done until just now, and once he saw his reflection he instantly regretted it. 

He almost didn't recognize himself; some ugly, gaunt little man stood there staring back at him, green eyes dull and sore from crying, and, like his cheeks, they were speckled with petechiae from the strangling he'd gotten. The assault had left him with a throbbing red mark on his right cheek that was already beginning to show signs of faint purples and yellows, but it was nothing compared to the deep, angry bruise collaring his neck. His throat was so sore, both inside and out, and simply swallowing made him wince. 

The sight of himself like that made him whimper and he had to look away. He couldn't believe Ramsay,  _his_ Ramsay, had done that to him. He knew his lover was more than capable of his fair share of temper tantrums and fits of rage, and he knew his lover adored rough sex and some pain. But this? He didn't expect any of this and it terrified him, made him wonder if Ramsay really even loved him at all, and even if he did would he let something like this happen again?

He wished he knew.

He wished he could deal with this like he thought a braver, stronger person would. 

He kept wishing for things as he sunk into the too-hot water of the bath.


	7. Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments and the encouragement. It means so much to me, and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this. :>

"Ramsay?" 

Ramsay glanced up from the newspaper he had laid out on the coffee table, eyes now on the timid man who was standing in the living room entryway with Sunny tucked under one arm and a suitcase waiting beside him. His brows furrowed and he sat up properly. "What's this?" 

Theon took a shaky breath and looked down at the rug, clearly uncomfortable. It had been a little over two days since their... fight... and tensions around the house had been high - at least, they had been for Theon. The ginger spent most of the last couple of days working, and when he wasn't he was tucked away in his room with Sunny trying his best to avoid Ramsay. When he couldn't, he was awkward and shy, mostly quiet and particularly careful with his words – the latter of which his lover could appreciate, honestly.

It was strange seeing his little Theon being so cautious and soft around him, Ramsay had to admit, especially since he'd been so cheery and cocky and loud just before all this. But this change was a change he could get used to, and quickly. He hoped it would stay.

When Theon finally spoke again, it seemed like he was trying to put a little self-assurance and bravado in his tone, an attempt that nearly made Ramsay 'aww' wryly. "I'm going to Robb's for the next two weeks. I, uh, I think it would be for the best."

Ramsay was quiet for a long moment before he barked out a sharp laugh, making Theon visibly wince. He grinned, but there wasn't any real mirth to it. "You're joking. 'You trying to be funny, darling? Because it's working."

Theon kept his eyes on the floor, but he shook his head with confidence, expression firm. "No. No, 'm not joking, Rams, this is serious."

The other man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, don't be so dramatic. You're fine, I'm fine, we're all fine. Now, go unpack your bag and come down here and watch some tv with me."

Theon bit his lip and closed his eyes a moment, trying to collect himself. He wished it didn't have to be this hard... 

"Ramsay, please. I'm not being dramatic, I'm being more than fair. We're not okay, I'm- I'm not okay. What happened the other day, that was... god, it was so wrong, no matter who said what! Look at me!" He finally faced Ramsay, his free hand pointing at the ugly purple-yellow ring around his neck, then the bruises on his left cheek. The evidence was in his voice, too; raw and brittle-sounding, his throat clearly sore and injured. He continued speaking in that voice, louder now with his growing emotion, "I've spent the last two and a half days terrified of the man I- of you, and it shouldn't be that way! I should be on that couch with you right now, fucking cuddling or something, but instead I'm doing... I'm doing this!" 

He muffled a frustrated sob and rubbed hard at his eyes. He'd cried enough in the last few days and he didn't want to keep going, didn't want to keep looking and feeling so weak, especially not in front of Ramsay. It just wasn't like him to behave the way he'd been doing, and that scared him, too. 

Ramsay stood, gaze a bit intense despite the soft timbre of his voice. "Now darling, we talked about this, me and you. Don't you remember? We talked about what happened and why it did. You know that." 

He did, he knew,  even though something about what they'd talked about seemed very wrong and just didn't  quite sit well  with him  no  matter how right Ramsay seemed.  H e'd thought about their talk a lot in the last two days, and sometimes Ramsay made sense, but most times it just made him very uneasy and unsure.

H e shook his head.  "No, I know, but it's still not right, Ramsay. I think... Look, I think it would be good for us to be apart for a few days, you know? See, I've thought about it and I think w e've been stuck together in this house all winter, just us, and maybe we're getting sick of each other like it's cabin fever or something? So, yeah, it'll be good if I fuck off for a bit to Robb's and you spend time here alone or going out with the boys. We can rest, we can get  our  attitudes back in check, we can calm down, and we can miss each other a lot and appreciate each other more. Maybe, by the time I come home, we'll be good as new and all over each other again, huh?" 

He tried to offer the best reassuring smile he could while in his current state ,  hugging Sunny close to his chest for comfort .

"Oho," Ramsay chuckled. "You're suddenly a psychologist now, hm? A relationship expert? A marriage counselor of sorts? You think a long time apart will make us better? How? How can we fix something when we're not there to work on it together? Aren't relationships supposed to be about teamwork and compromise, Theon?"

"Ramsay..."

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you're doing this to me. If you just want to break up with me and leave for good, why don't you just come out and say so, Theon?"

"What? I didn't say that, stop that-"

"I make one mistake –and need I remind you it was because of something  _you_ did-, and you still aren't willing to try and understand, to try and forgive me?" He scoffed and threw his hands up. "Here I was thinking our relationship meant something to you, that we could learn to understand each other even at our worst, that we could learn to work through it  _together_. But no, I see it now. You never really cared, and you don't want to work on a damn thing, you just want to give up and leave, right?"

"Ramsay, please! It  _does_ mean something to me, it's- you're so fucking important to me, I swear, but not everything between us can be fixed just by us cuddling and talking, sometimes certain things just need space and this is one of them! I-I need time, love, okay? What you did to me... you scared me so bad, Ramsay, you almost  _killed_ me! I'm scared to be around you right now. Please. Just let me stay with Robb for a bit, let me work things out in my head. I'll call you every day, we'll talk, we'll set things right, but for now I just need to be away..." He sounded so tired and sad, and it showed on his face as much as it did in his voice. 

Ramsay stood there for a long moment, quiet and considering. Finally, he said, "Do you love me, Theon?"

Theon swallowed and sighed heavily.  _Gods, please_ _don't do this to me..._  "Yes, you know I do, you know I love you."

He came closer, cautiously as if he were approaching a baby deer, and he held a hand out to Theon. He spoke gently, almost soothing, even. "Then trust me, dearest. Let me make it up to you, please. I need to prove myself to you and I can't do that when you're away."

Theon eyed the hand being held out to him, and when his glance drifted up he met with those blue eyes of Ramsay's. They looked so sincere...

"I don't... I don't know..."

Ramsay stepped closer and the ginger let him. He took one pale, jittery hand in both his own and brought it to his lips, pressing an affectionate kiss to each knuckle. "I love you, Theon. I need you to trust me. Please."

It was quiet again as Theon thought it over. Ramsay seemed pretty genuine about this, like he really, really wanted to make up for things and fix their relationship. And that effort, that need to do well and prove himself, that surely counted for something, didn't it? He was clearly important to Ramsay, and the other man was trying to show it. 

Well. If Ramsay was willing to try this hard then so was he. Besides... Robb didn't need to see the bruises and marks and start asking questions or starting any fights.

He bent to set Sunny down, then stood and faced the Bolton son. "Alright. Okay, Ramsay." 

When he was pulled into a tight embrace he flinched, but after another second, he was melting against the other body. He couldn't lie to himself, he missed this contact and warmth and affection, even if it had only been gone for a few days. Long, miserable days. He slipped his arms around Ramsay's middle and rested his head against one of those broad shoulders, nestling in and breathing deeply. A heavy hand settled against the back of his head and stroked his hair, and lips pressed against his scalp with a kiss.

"Why don't we get out of here for the weekend? Let's go to the coast and visit your beloved Sunset Sea."

Theon lifted his head, brows raised. "Really? You want to? Oh, but it's so cold right now, you might hate it out there..."

Ramsay chuckled, "Darling, you don't have to go swimming to enjoy the beach. Sometimes it's satisfying enough just standing in the sand with a beautiful view to your front and your beloved at your side."

The smaller man blushed, unable to hide the small, happy smile that came to his face. "Yeah... Okay, cool. I'd love that, Rams, let's do it."

"Perfect!" Ramsay said, releasing Theon. "And look, you've already got your bag packed!"

"Pfh, yeah, well... Oh! Wait, what about Sunny and the girls?"

"I'll call Ben to come and check in on them." Ramsay started heading upstairs, Theon following.

"Um, you sure? You think he'll be okay with Sunny?"

Ramsay stopped and looked back at Theon. "Sweetheart, please. I know you don't like my friends, but I've always trusted Bones with my girls and he's been nothing but good with them. He'll treat Sunny perfectly fine, and if he doesn't?" He made a throat-slitting gesture which Theon cringed at. "Sorry, poor taste. But you know I won't let anyone harm our animals. Now, I'm going to go pack and then call him. In the meanwhile, you can go see if there's anything else you'll be needing , alright? "

Theon headed back down stairs to go sit on the couch, Sunny trotting along at his heels.

 He was a little confused with himself; just a moment ago, he was scared, sad, and frustrated, but now he was starting to feel hopeful again, starting to feel loved once more, and there was even a bit of giddiness bubbling up. Was that wrong of him? It made him feel a tad guilty, honestly, like he wasn't supposed to be feeling good about their relationship. Yet, here he was being swayed by a beach trip and sweet words from Ramsay. But he had to believe this would work out, he had to believe Ramsay was going to try for him. They loved each other, and he was still just feeling a little rattled by the attack, that was all. Who wouldn't still be a bit shaken after that, it  _was_ pretty traumatic. So, it was understandable that he'd still be erring on the side of caution. Besides, he'd never seen Ramsay be violent like that with anyone else, not even with the animals, and he'd never witnessed any of the incidents claimed by people around town. 

Tantrums and hear-say were not proof of anything, neither was one bad reaction to some uncalled-for words. ...Right? Right. 

Right.

"It's okay, Theon," he murmured under his breath to himself as he dialed Robb's number. He put on a cheerier tone when his friend picked up, trying to sound playfully exasperated. "Heyyy, mate. 'M so sorry to do this to you, I know you already started driving, but I'm not gonna be staying with you after all."

"What?" Robb asked, loud and annoyed. "Why the fuck not?"

"Rams and I... talked things out. We're gonna go to the beach, spend the whole weekend there together." He could hear Robb smack his palms against the steering wheel in frustration.

"What? You- Okay, no, wait a minute, you ass. This morning, you said you and him got in a huge fight and you wanted to get away for a while. You sounded... weird, dude. Really weird. And now things are suddenly hunky-dory and you two are going on a romantic beach trip? What gives? What's going on, man?" The frustration was evident in his voice, too, and Theon was sure Robb hadn't made any attempt to turn the car around yet. 

"It's nothing, mate, really, I promise," He absently touched at the bruise around his throat. "We talked. We apologized, we explained things, that's it. We're gonna spend time together this weekend and talk a bit more about it. I just got ahead of myself when I called you earlier, I didn't think things through and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, yeah? If you want, I can send you the gas money you spent?"

Robb didn't pay that any mind, his concerns elsewhere. "It's just... I dunno, Theon, this whole thing sounds off to me, I don't like it. I mean, I don't like you being with him anyway, you already know that, but this particular situation just seems..."

_Oh, if you only knew, brother._  "It's fine, Robby, I promise. Heh, what, you don't believe me?"

"Hard to tell, you always were a great liar," Robb teased, but he wasn't laughing. Still, Theon sounded okay, definitely better than earlier that day. He had to admit, that call from this morning had scared him. But, if Theon insisted... "Alright, I guess I'll head back, then. You owe me, dick."

Theon snickered and smiled, leaning down to rub Sunny's belly. "Yeah, I do. Hey, again, dude, I'm so sorry for the trouble, I know I suck. I'll text you later, okay? Drive safe, love ya, Stork."

"You, too, Greyjerk." Robb hung up, but he then pulled up his contact list and started scrolling through. Jon could do a friendly little check-in at the Bolton-Greyjoy residence this Tuesday when he'd be sure the two men would be home. If nothing was wrong and Theon looked to be genuinely okay then he'd stop worrying and leave them alone. If not, then he'd haul ass home and take his best friend out of that psych ward himself.

 

* * *

 

 

The sand was stiff and the saltwater was freezing cold, but Theon ran barefoot through the foam like it was summertime. 

He was the happiest he'd been in days, and he felt freer than he had in so, so long. The biting sea air whipped at his hair and filled his lungs, and the icy waters nipped and stung his skin in the best kind of way, and if he could have he would have dived right in and started swimming. The ginger felt like a child as he splashed and kicked at the waves with his feet and over-stuffed his pockets with colorful shells.

The chill had his nose running and his toes feeling numb, but he was in paradise.

Ramsay, however, would have rather been most anywhere else. He sniffed and grunted, wiping his own runny nose, and he glared at that stupid sea in defiance. He didn't see what was so great about it; it was just a load of filthy, fish-ridden salt water  that  was ugly, grey, and foamy, and it smelled like ass and garbage. The sand was terrible, too. It was dry and hard, uncomfortable to walk on, and whenever it did manage to be loose it just got in his boots and pissed him off. No doubt it was just as disgusting as the water, probably loaded with used needles, spent condoms, animal waste, bugs, garbage... And Theon was running through all this with his bare feet!

If that idiot got hepatitis or tetanus or AIDs or who-the-fuck-knows-what, he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to drive him to the hospital.

A smirk did manage to make its way to his face when Theon whirled around with his arms wide open and he had a big, dumb, and  _grateful_ toothy grin on display.

"Rams! Isn't this great?"

"Sure, darling, _just wonderful_." Theon either didn't notice the sarcasm or he didn't care, and Ramsay watched him bound off further down the beach, whooping and hollering as if his throat was perfectly fine.

Whatever, he thought. They could be out on a goddamned boat together in that stupid water for all he cared, just as long as Theon stayed far and away from Robb Stark and kept the other man out of  _their_ business.

 

* * *

 

 

They were lying on the cozy, king-sized bed situated in front of the large bay window. The view was wonderful, at least, to Theon, as it looked right out at the sea, the shore just a few good yards from the lovely little cottage Ramsay had rented for them upon his request after he'd told the other man of his silly little romance fantasies.

Ramsay would have preferred a hotel room with better heating and less noise, but if this place kept Theon happy and distracted he wasn't going to bitch about it. Well, not much, at least.

"There's nothing like the sound of gently-crashing waves to rock even the most unsettled man to sleep, I swear," Theon whispered, eyes up on the dark ceiling. 

Ramsay snorted. "Are you going to start writing me poetry now?"

Theon rolled over to face him, chin resting on his folded arms. "What? Oh come on, you can't tell me that sound isn't soothing as fuck."

"Sure, I can. You know why?"

Theon shook his head and shrugged, grinning. "No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

"And you're right. Those waves out there are nothing compared to the utter lack of sound that is the complete, smothering silence of a winter night's gentle snowfall.  _That_ , my dear, is truly soothing."

"Now who’s getting poetic, hm?" Theon chuckled. He moved a little closer to Ramsay, clearly charmed by the other man and his words, his admiration showing on his face. "That is beautiful, though."

"Ah, so you agree with me, hm?" Ramsay preened.

Theon nodded, eyes drifting down to watch his fingers draw swirl patterns in the sheets. "Mhm. I remember, when I was a small child and I was first staying with the Starks, I would lie awake some nights and weep. Robb would be dead asleep and I'd just be huddled in my bed feeling completely scared and alone, wishing I could just go back home to some place familiar, wishing I could come back to Pike's Bay and hear all the sounds and busy-ness just because it was so damn quiet and calm up north. But when I'd lay there, I'd look out the window as it was snowing. I'd watch these pretty, fluffy snowflakes silently fall in that eerie but cool orange-grey glow the sky gets during that weather, and it actually calmed me. It used to put me to sleep so quickly, and I always woke up feeling so much better the next morning... eventually, I stopped crying and stopped feeling so homesick. So, yeah, I definitely agree with you, Rams."

Ramsay watched him and listened to the wistful way in which he spoke. He wondered if adult Theon ever sometimes repeated those times of his past and sat up in his attic room, looking out the windows and crying. Did he still feel homesick? 

He then wondered how Theon could possibly ever feel homesick when he was already at home on Dreadfort Road.

"'M sorry, I must be boring you," he said, looking up at Ramsay again.

The black-haired man just barely shook his head, voice almost inaudible about the waves. "No. You're just very distracting, Theon."

Before his little kraken could say anything, Ramsay cupped Theon's chin with his hand and leaned in to press their lips together. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, slow-paced and intimate, and Theon absolutely melted despite his astonishment. There were no bites. There was no force, no roughness, no commanding. There was no clumsiness, no rush. There was no blood, no pain. Lacking all these things, there was still an intensity, still a burst of heat and desire that welled up in Theon, and he could swear he saw stars behind his eyelids. He moaned, still a little raspy, and then he felt strong arms wrap around him and pull him on top of his lover's chest. 

 He sighed into the kiss, framing his own arms around Ramsay's head, then kissed the other man a little longer before pulling away just enough to speak. "Thank you for this... I'm glad we did this, I'm glad I'm here with you."

A smile crept onto Ramsay's face and he moved a big hand up to brush some hair from Theon's eyes. "As am I, pet. This is good for us, for you."

He tilted his head to start a trail of slow, affectionate kisses from Theon's jaw and down to the bruise still showing prominently on his neck. His kisses were tender to the sensitive area, lips and tongue treating the marred skin like it was glass.

Theon gave a  subtle , shaky exhale and closed his eyes, reveling in the way those kisses felt. Those lips, careful and unhurried,  were so different from the way those hands , brutal  and unrelenting, had felt on him the other day, and the stark contrast made his heart  ache .  He ignored that ache, though, not wanting to be reminded of what had happened, not now, not right here in this bed while they were having such a sweet, quiet moment. He wasn't sure when he'd even get another genuinely romantic evening  like this  with Ramsay and he didn't want to squander the one he was having now. 

"Ramsay..." He whispered after a while, timbre a little tremulous and breathy. 

"Yes, my love?" 

"Can you- will you make love to me, tonight? I don't want you to fuck me. I want... I want us to make love." He felt silly having to even specify that, but he also felt it was necessary because to him they'd never actually  _made love_  before, not even when he'd lost his virginity, and he didn't want anything less than genuine tonight. Besides, they were looking to bond this weekend, what could be a better way, right? 

Ramsay seemed to agree, because his expression, while still heated, softened to a degree, and he moved to gently roll them over so that Theon was on his back now. He brushed that hair away again, his fingertips lingering over the bruised cheek underneath. "Only the best for my Theon. Tonight is your night, darling, and I'm going to spoil you so much you'll fall in love with me all over again. I promise." A quick wink and a playful chuckle followed.

Theon, pleased by that, relaxed into the sheets and sprawled like a lazy kitten while Ramsay went back at him with those soft, trailing kisses again, and he arched slightly as those big hands made their appearance and began caressing his bare sides. 

"Oh," he groaned, pale lashes fluttering his eyes closed.

Ramsay liked those pretty little noises. As much as he adored the yelps and cries he normally got, those quiet moans and faint sighs did a perfectly capable job of giving him goosebumps, and his erection was beginning to throb in his boxers. His eyes were open and set intently on Theon as he gave his little kisses and nips, watching every single bob of his Adam's apple, every single hitch of breath, every single flicker of emotion. He drank it all in, greedy, pleased with himself to know that it was him –and only him- who was causing Theon to begin to mewl and writhe like that. And all he'd done so far was give a few silly little kisses.

See, Theon? He could be just as tender and sappy as you liked. All you have to do is give him a chance once in a while and just trust him.

When he'd kissed a little lower, he'd gotten to Theon's faintly-heaving chest. His lips brushed over a stiff pink nipple, eliciting a tiny gasp that made him thrust once against Theon's thigh, and he did it again before swirling his tongue around it and taking it in his mouth. His pretty red-head arched up against him and mewled, and he saw his hands bury into the sheets. He continued, suckling and teasing, but gods did he want to bite down. He wanted to see Theon's look of pleasure warp into one of shock, and he wanted to hear those delicate mewls keen into sharp cries of pain.

But, he behaved himself. He could be a good boy, too.

Theon pressed up against Ramsay's mouth, and admittedly, he expected a mean bite to his nipple or a stinging set of scratches down his side at any moment. Nothing like that happened, only another trail of kisses leading to the ginger's other nipple which was immediately given the same treatment as the one before it.

"Oh, Rams," he breathed. He was hard, achingly so, and his erection strained at his underwear. Giving a little whine, he rolled his hips up and ground his bulge against his lover's stomach, biting his lip at the friction from the cloth. 

_Needy little thing_. Ramsay peered up at Theon when he felt that insistent rubbing. The man underneath him was beautiful, face flushed red and full of pleasure, lips wet and pink, chest gently heaving, and his fingers buried in the sheets. He looked to be on the verge of desperation and Ramsay wanted to laugh; they'd hardly done anything at all and Theon was looking and acting like a pure virgin all over again. Soon he'd be begging, that lovely boy, and damn did the Bolton son want to see that.

Bored with those precious little nipples now, he moved his way on down to something more exciting, something much more sensitive. Another trail of soft, nipping kisses and teasing licks brought him down to  the hemline  of Theon's underwear, and he tugged those down to let the other boy's erection spring free. He was rewarded with a happy little sigh and a slight buck of those full hips, and when he looked up he was finally met with Theon's own  eyes  again.

Those hazy greens were open and attentive, and they watched Ramsay with a hazy, half-lidded gaze. There was a look of anticipation on his face, licking his lips and propping himself up on his elbows, and Ramsay knew damn well how exciting this must be for him. He'd only ever given the man oral once, and when he did it was quick and rough. He could tell Theon was hopeful for a 'real' one, and his near-wiggling giddiness could almost be called adorable. 

And who was he to keep his prince waiting? Ramsay sat up and tugged Theon's underwear down the rest of the way, then tossed them aside before getting in-between those thighs he was so fond of. He took the base of Theon's cock in one big, warm hand, the other moving to rest on his lover's hip to stop him from bucking too much. Tilting his head, he gave one long lick to the underside, starting from just above his hand and ending at the tip. His eyes never left Theon's. The ginger shuddered hard underneath him, fingers clutching the sheets and hips trying to give a muffled jerk.

"Thank you, Rams!" Theon rasped. "Y-you're beautiful."

Ramsay chuckled softly and smiled, lips brushing the tip. "Thank  _you_ , darling."

He continued his task, tongue darting out to lap up a bead of pre-come before teasing at the slit at the tip. He felt the length pulse in his hand, and then gave one more swirling lick before taking the head into his mouth. A rumbling hum erupted from his throat, and hints of vibrations caused a quiver to run throughout Theon's open thighs.

"R-Ramsay...!" 

Jittery hands buried themselves in his raven hair, but they didn't pull, only nudged a bit in encouragement. Theon wanted slow and easy, yet he still had no patience. Typical. That was alright, though; Ramsay had enough patience for both of them, and he'd make this take all night if he so pleased.

Gradually, he took Theon deeper into his mouth and started to add more suction, tongue swirling and exploring, teeth careful but still grazing just a tad. He moved slowly and carefully, almost excruciatingly so for Theon, but by the time he was finally deep-throating him, he had Theon panting and moaning and pulling weakly at his hair. From the corner of his eye, he watched those milky thighs quiver and jolt with each pulse and hum of his throat, and when he chuckled low and rumbling it pushed his lover over the edge.

Ramsay pulled back just enough so that his mouth was still around the tip when Theon came, and he made sure to swallow as much as he could. The sight of that alone seemed to drive Theon even crazier, and the ginger bucked his hips a bit more frantically.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh..." Ramsay hushed at him, lips still pressed against the leaking head, his big hands gently patting against Theon's needy thrusts. A slow, teasing kiss, and then another, and another, and then he was crawling back up to meet the other man's lips with his own. He nuzzled the ginger with a surprising amount of affection and cupped his face in his hands, cooing, "Easy now, darling. We can't have you all worn out and sleepy, now can we? I still have so much left to do tonight..."

 

* * *

 

 

They had made love twice that night, and Theon had been pleasured by Ramsay even more times than that. It was nearly 5 am  the next morning by the time they were officially done, both completely spent and draped over one another in the sheets. Theon was on his back, slightly propped up on the pillows, and he held a sleeping Ramsay against his side, the other man's head on his chest and one arm loosely-wrapped protectively around his middle. One hand ran its fingers through a mess of thick, black hair, the other held a cigarette near his lips. He hadn't smoked at all since the choking incident, but he was feeling well enough now that he thought it was okay. Still a tad sore,  but he figured one cigarette wouldn't hurt, so he kept at it, absently watching the smoke drift up in to  the darkness. 

He was feeling exhausted, physically and mentally. It'd been a long series of days and it only felt like they were just now winding down, much to his relief. He still wasn't... over  _things_ , but he felt like now he'd be able to handle them much better, be able to approach it all with confidence, especially confidence in himself. 

It also seemed like Ramsay might be genuinely sorry and that he regretted what he'd done to Theon. He really felt that way, right? Of course he did. Ramsay Bolton was a good man who had proven plenty of times just how much he cared for his lover, how important Theon was to him. And, like any man, any human, really, he had sensitivities and emotions and a breaking point, so it was only natural that after all the stress they'd been through recently he would snap like he had. It made even more sense after what Theon had apparently said to Ramsay, didn't it? No wonder he was set off.

Ramsay was right, he shouldn't have said those terrib l e, cruel things. He got hurt  for it , but it made sense that the other man would retaliate after having such things said to him. Who wouldn't?  No one wants to be made to feel worthless and less than what they are, no one wants to feel like they're unloved, and, in Ramsay's case, he doesn't want to be reminded of that whole bastard thing.  Theon knew about that and still he'd pushed until it was too much . R eally,  he should have known better.

Well, he wouldn't be doing that again. He'd thoroughly learned his lesson and he'd suffered for it. He wasn't going to hurt Ramsay just because he was hurting, that wasn't fair and it wasn't how relationships worked.

Still, something nagged at the back of his mind, some tiny voice that had been much louder earlier, and it said that things still weren't right and that he should get out before he found out why. It told him that Ramsay was  _not_ a good man because, no matter how offended and angry, a good man wouldn't have done what he did. A good man wouldn't be legendary around his town for cruelty and intimidation. A good man wouldn't make him doubt himself or drive his friends away or treat him as anything less than perfect.

He shoved that voice down deep and away, silencing it as best he could. It was scaring him. His other thoughts spoke louder now, saying that if Ramsay wasn't good he wouldn't have given Theon such a wonderful home, wouldn't have gotten him a puppy to love, wouldn't have taken him to his favorite place and made love to him, wouldn't take him to and from work, wouldn't spend so much time with him, wouldn't try and make things right.

No, Ramsay was a good man, he was sure of that, he had to be. It terrified him to think otherwise.

He leaned over to crush out his spent cigarette, then nestled back against the sheets and pillows. Sighing, he tilted his head to press a kiss to the top of Ramsay's scalp, then hugged his man tighter to himself and closed his eyes. 

He was asleep just as the first hint of sunrise came up over the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late Tuesday afternoon, and the two of them were seated comfortably on the couch. Theon was watching tv with Sunny sleeping in his lap, and Ramsay was next to him, paying the bills he had spread on the coffee table. The girls were inside, too, snoring away on the rug under the sunshine coming in through the window. It was nice and quiet, very relaxing, and it was the perfect way to continue their extended weekend together. 

They'd gotten back home Monday afternoon, but decided they could take a few more days off work, and so now they sat huddled with the dogs in the comfort of their living room, nothing but each other on their minds. This was just what Theon had needed after the last few weeks and everything that happened within them.

Willow abruptly sat up, ears perked as she stared in the direction of the window. Her cheeks puffed with a growly huff, and her sisters woke to begin doing the same. A few more growls, then the three of them were barking loudly and rushing to the door.

Ramsay briefly glanced up from his bills but didn't really pay much more mind than that. "Theon, dear, please check that out. It might be Skinner, he said he had something he'd probably be dropping off today."

"Sure thing, love. Oi, girls! Sit! Back up, back, up-  _sit_! Good babies, very good!" He patted each of their heads, pleased that they were really starting to listen to him now. He set Sunny down beside her big sisters and she sat, too. He chuckled, opening the door. "Okay, so that's four treats I'll need to get out then, eh? Y-." 

He stopped suddenly, eyes widening just a tad in surprise before his brows furrowed in puzzlement. " _Jon_?"

"Hey," Jon gave a quick wave, then placed his hand back on his gear belt and strode over, eyes casually drifting around before stopping on Theon. "Long time no see, huh?" 

"Yeah, ha," Theon smiled, but he paled a little as he noted Jon was wearing his uniform and his cop car was parked a few yards away from the door. One arm hugged his middle, the other hand flew up to try and cover the bruise on his throat as casually as possible. "What, uh, what are you doing here, mate?"

Jon had noticed  the bruises on Theon's cheek and throat, as well as the sudden spark of fear in his  eyes, the moment the other boy had opened the door and came outside. He kept his tone friendly and forced an easy smile, but inside there was anger and a thousand questions all brewing at once. "I  was doing my rounds,  and since it's a slow day I t hought I'd take a little break to come and visit you for a few minutes. I haven't seen you in a while other than occasionally passing by you when you're on your bike in town , and I missed you . Is t his  okay? I hope I didn't interrupt anything...?"

Ramsay hadn't been paying much attention while Theon was at the door, too focused on the bills in front of him, but his head had snapped right up to attention the instant the name "Jon" had hit his ears. Suddenly feeling tension all throughout his body, he stood quickly and headed over to the door, eyes instantly a bit wide, nostrils flared, and brows furrowed. He greeted Jon with a tense, irritated smile. 

"Afternoon, Officer Snow. Please don't think me rude, but yes, you are interrupting something. Theon and I-" At the mention of his lover's name, his hand clamped down heavily on one tight shoulder, giving it a 'playful' jostle. "-are spending some quality time together after a little tiff we had, and we'd really like it if we could get back to that."

"'Tiff'. Right." He leaned against the railing of the porch steps, not in any hurry to leave, much to Ramsay's annoyance.

"Yes. Now. Do you actually need something, or...?"

That look on Ramsay's face and the way he sounded was unnerving, it couldn't be denied, but the cop wasn't backing down. He'd been intimidated by better men. Jon shrugged. "No, not really, just wanted to catch up with my brother. Do you mind? I'd like to chat with Theon privately, catch up with him and see what he's been up to for the last couple of months."

Ramsay gripped the wood of the door so hard that Jon feared he might actually splinter the damn thing. Instead, he turned his smile to the back of –a rather anxious-looking- Theon's head, and his other hand gave a squeeze to the boy's shoulder that made him flinch slightly. "Well then, boys! Enjoy your  _chat_. I'll be inside." 

Before Ramsay could close the door, Theon quickly called for Sunny and she came trotting out. He scooped her up and turned his attention back to Jon, seeming only a little bit more at ease now that Bolton wasn't hovering behind him. "What's up?"

Jon sat on the steps and patted a spot beside him, and Theon sat, too. "Not much, just been trying to keep up with work. They've had Ygritte and I taking care of all the busy-work since we're the rookies at the station."

Theon only just now noticed that Ygritte wasn't with Jon. They had pretty much been partnered up since the beginning of the young cop's career, which he clearly had no problem with that as Snow's crush on her was visible from a mile away. "Where is Ygritte? Aren't you two usually riding together?"

"She's stuck with Tormund today. There was... an incident. A body was found out in the woods just south of town this morning, so she's helping out with that." 

Theon was honestly a little relieved she wasn't here. He'd met her a few times, and unlike her partner, she was a bit of a hot-head and didn't put up with anyone's shit. He didn't want to see her jumping on Ramsay about his surly defensiveness. 

The red-head leaned over to set Sunny down in the snow, and he watched her hop around on her tiny cold feet. It made him smile and Jon snicker. 

"I take it that's the new dog Robb told me you had?" The brown-eyed man asked.

"Yeah, "Sunny". Rams got her for me for Christmas." 

"Hm. Wasn't that nice of him."

"Very. So, who was the body that was found? Or is that official police business?" He picked up a handful of snow and tossed it at Sunny's fluffy backside, snorting as it exploded and showered her in glittery little snowflakes. Sunny wasn't quite as amused, and she bounced off away from the two of them, shaking the snow off her butt.

"A woman, Maude Sanderson. She went to our high school; do you remember her?"

Theon thought for a moment, then did a so-so gesture with his hand. "Sort of. Tall and dark-blonde, right? She was in, like, maybe two of my classes throughout high school but we never talked to each other. What happened to her?"

Jon scratched his chin and squinted out over the yard. "Ygritte told me they didn't find anything at the scene so this is only speculation, but it looked like she might have been chased and then shot with arrows or something similar. She had some entry wounds at her back, and she was found lying naked and face-down in the dirt. She'd been there a few days, they think, the cold was keeping her pretty fresh."

Theon looked down at his red, bare feet and tucked them inside the hems of his sweatpants, suddenly wishing he'd thought enough to bring a jacket out with him. "Scary..."

"Yeah. But hey," Jon clapped a hand down on Theon's thigh, noting the way he jolted a bit more than normal. He retracted his hand. "We're gonna get that guy, so you don't need to worry about him."

"Oh, I'm not worried, Ramsay and the girls are here; I feel plenty safe."

"Do you?" Jon asked, looking incredulous as his eyes once more roamed over those bruises.

Theon didn't look at him. "Yes, Jon. I do."

"Alright," he didn't push further, choosing to sit  silently  for a moment instead. It was strange to see Theon quiet and appearing so withdrawn. The last time he saw his friend, the guy could hardly shut up, big, goofy smile stuck on his face, eyes bright and happy. Typical Theon.  He wanted to go ahead and tell himself that everyone has their off-days, wanted to give Bolton the benefit of the doubt, but those bruises... and they weren't even random, accidental-looking bruises, there was a fucking fading  hand print  embedded in Theon's neck, and part of another on his face. Unfortunately, he didn't feel he could prove  a damn t hing, and he wasn't sure Theon was going to tell him much, if anything, at all. Still, he had to ask, "Where did you get those bruises, man?"

Theon visibly swallowed, fingers quickly drumming at the step he sat on. He chewed his lip a moment before answering. "Some guy tried to mug me on my way home from work. Just, uh. Just outside of  Endry's . Knocked me down and tried to take my bike from me, did, uh, did all this when I fought back."

_C'mon, Theon, you're a better liar than that._  "You didn't report it?"

The red-head looked down at his shoes, and Jon could have sworn he saw something akin to shame in his eyes for a brief moment. "Naw, I didn't think it was a big deal, really? Nothing major happened - 'cept all this-, and I still got my bike, so... yeah. 'Sides, the guy had a ski mask, so it's not like I could identify him anyway even if I wanted to."

Jon stared at him for a long moment before nodding and standing. This was... frustrating. But there wasn't much he could do, at least, not yet. He'd try and talk with his boss about it later, maybe vent to Ygritte and Tormund, but Robb was not going to find out right now. Robb was too hot-headed and he'd just cause more trouble. "I'd better get going, I've got patrolling to do. It was good talking with you, Theon. You're missed over at Winterfell, maybe next Friday dad and Cat will have one of their big dinners and you and Yara can come by for the evening, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'd love to, actually. I'll, uh, see if I can, okay?" Theon stood, too, and for a moment they both hung around awkwardly before pulling each other into a tight embrace. Theon reveled in it, and a small part of him ached to say that that brief moment was the safest he'd felt in days. He pulled back and stuffed his hands in his pockets, then gave a whistle for Sunny. She came bounding over and he bent to pick her up, but when he did he hesitated. 

Jon raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

"No, uh... s'just. I just remembered something. Ah, could you take Sunny for me?" He held the puppy up in front of a surprised Jon.

"What? Why? You want me to take her to work with me?"

Theon feigned a laugh. "No, dude, just to Winterfell. I completely forgot to mention it, but I had asked Arya earlier this week if she'd be willing to watch Sunny for a little while for me."

The cop squinted. 

"Well, you see, um- you see, Ramsay's girls, those cane corsos that were hollering at you? They're not quite used to her yet and it's, er, making me nervous, so until we get them properly trained I just thought it'd be best if she hung out over at Winterfell."

"Winterfell. Where there are even bigger dogs?"

Theon cursed his stupidity. "Yeahhh, I know, but Arya promised she'd take really good care of her, and you know how well-behaved the wolf-dogs are. Say, is Ghost still training to be in the K-9 unit?"

Jon beamed at that, always proud of his own beast. "Why, yes, he is. His trainer says that Ghost is the quickest learner he's ever had. I'm working on my training for that, too, but I'm probably not nearly as smart and quick as Ghost."

"Ha, wonderful. That'll be super-cool, getting to take your pet to work and ride around with him all day... 'wish I could do that. Anyway, yeah, if you could just take her, that'd be great. Sorry for the inconvenience, I really should've asked first."

"Hey, it's no trouble, man," He took the Pomeranian in his arms and held her like a baby. Theon swallowed the lump building in his throat and looked down at his feet. 

"Thanks, Jon."

"Again, it's no trouble. I'll tell Arya you'll come and get her whenever you're ready. Take care of yourself, and call me or the station if you need anything, alright? Hell, even if you just need a ride to and from work. Wouldn't want any more attempted  _muggings_ , yeah?" He headed back to his car, Sunny in his arms.

"Yeah..." Theon breathed, seeing the two of them go. He hated to let Sunny leave like that, but he just knew it should happen. He wasn't sure why, but a feeling like a punch in the gut had hit him when he went to pick her up, and suddenly he just felt like he had to send her with Jon. He hoped that feeling was wrong, and he hoped he'd be heading to Winterfell tomorrow or the next day to pick her up and take her back home.

He watched Jon's car drive off down Dreadfort Lane, then turn right onto Dreadfort Road, carrying on down that way for a bit until disappearing behind the cover of the pines. He gave a tired little wave, then turned to head back inside the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buh-bye for now, Sunners.


	8. Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little carried away with this chapter, can you tell? It's long. And probably long-winded, so I apologize.  
> It was definitely one of my favorites to do so far, though, a lot happening, plus the fact that I love a strong, willful Theon just as much as I love a Reek-ly Theon.  
> As always, thanks for the support, you guys, I love it and I love you.

"I thought you trusted me, Theon." 

The words stopped him in his tracks as he entered the house, and his heart felt like it skipped a beat or two. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and he tried to work his jaw, stammering, "I-what? Wh-what's that, Rams?" 

"I said, I  _thought_ you trusted me, Theon." 

Theon closed the door and took a few hesitant steps further inside, and he saw that Ramsay was standing in the living room, one hand in his pocket, the other at his side. The girls were gone, probably having been taken out the back door and put in their kennel while he was out front with Jon.  

Something didn't feel right about any of this. Just ten minutes or so ago, before Jon had come here, the house was warm and quiet, cozy and inviting. Now there was a strange silence, and the air felt static with a tension that made his hair stand on end and all his internal alarm bells go off. 

Ramsay appeared as deceivingly-calm as ever, but Theon saw the little tics, the tiny hints that made the bruises on his skin suddenly feel like they were burning. The dilated pupils, the twitch of muscle in his jaw, the flared nostrils, the tight shoulders and stance... Ramsay maybe appeared normal, but the ginger couldn't help feeling like prey for a predator. He had to get out. 

Theon took a few slow, cautious steps backwards, blindly feeling behind him for his coat. He spoke as gently as he could despite the nerves lacing his voice, "Rams, I think- I think 'm gonna go for a walk. I'll be back before dinner, okay?" 

Ramsay started stepping closer as Theon tried putting on his coat and shoes, one hand still in his pocket. "Theon." 

The red-head was sat on the floor trying to tug his second shoe on, and he shyly looked up at Ramsay. Fuck, it was intimidating enough just standing near him when he was angry, sitting while he was like that was downright terrifying. "Ah... yes?" 

He looked down on him, speaking slowly, "I thought that you trusted me." 

Theon's brows furrowed and he hesitantly stood up, shoes still untied. "I do, Rams. Why do you keep saying that?" 

"I don't think you do, Theon. In fact, I think you lied to me when you said that, just as you're lying now." Ramsay stepped uncomfortably close and Theon backed up until the wall stopped him from going further.  

"'Lying now'? What? What are you talking about? I haven't lied about anything! Ramsay, what's going on? Is this about-?" 

"Theon, if you trusted me, then why did you send precious little Sunny off with Jon?" 

Theon's throat went dry all over again. "I- look, I just thought it would be for the best, you know? Me and you, we're trying to- to patch things up, and she'd be a distraction, so... so, I sent her to Winterfell for a little while until we were ready..." 

Ramsay tilted his head, tone so soft and eyes so wide. Theon just wanted to melt into the wall and sink away. "Better with wolves than with me. Eh, Theon?" 

The ginger licked his lips nervously. "Why-why would you say that, love?" 

"'Why'?  _Why_ don't you tell me, hm?  

He couldn't, he didn't know how, none of this made sense to him. 

"Look, I don't understand why you're being like this, Ramsay. You're starting to scare me again, and I want it to stop." 

Ramsay huffed a wry laugh, and as he spoke he seemed to get louder, angrier, "Oh, I'm starting to scare you? So you weren't already scared of me when I felt you trembling under my hand at the door? When you sent your doggie away?  _W_ _hen_ _you fucking called that idiot cop on me in the first place?_ " 

That last one caught Theon's attention. His brows furrowed. "You think I called Jon? When? When would I have done that, Ramsay? And why?"  

"Oh, I don't know, Theon. Any time, really. Hell, you could have texted him. Or maybe Robb? You're clearly still not up to trusting me or forgiving me, though why not is beyond me seeing as how good and understanding I've been with you. Should we see your phone? See the accusations you've wrongly made against me? See that you did indeed summon Snow here to check up on you and have me arrested?" 

"Gods, what's gotten into you, why are you being like this? What's the matter with you, Ramsay?" Theon asked. He couldn't believe this, what the hell was going on? Why was Ramsay being this way, why was he being such a paranoid asshole? Checking his phone, really? Calling the cops? The Bolton son was acting like some kind of obsessed, hyper-jealous lover, or like... like some kind of psychopath or paranoid criminal or something.  

He huddled into himself a bit, shoulders hunched up protectively around his neck and face bracing for the hit he thought would come at any moment.

But Theon had done nothing he was being accused of. He was still a bit wary of things, sure, but his trust and belief in Ramsay was still strong enough, and he hadn't told Robb or Jon or Yara anything about being struck or strangled. The most he had admitted to was that there was a fight, and that was told to Robb days ago. He didn't call Jon and he didn't have any idea why the cop was there, and if he could have he sure as hell would have tried to prevent the cop's visit. No one needed to see him like this and no one needed to interfere with their personal issues, especially since they were working together on them. Theon thought they were doing well, and he thought the trust and respect went both ways. That didn't seem to be the case right now, though, and fuck did that hurt him. 

The ginger swallowed the lump in his throat and he blinked, scowling and nodding to himself. "Fuck it, you know what, fuck it. Fine, check my stupid phone, you'll see nothing on there and you'll just end up looking like a foolish jackass! I hope it'll be worth it for how much you're upsetting me!" 

Ramsay listened to him, expression appearing neutral, before he pulled Theon's phone out of his pocket, the one his hand had been stuffed in, and the smaller man honestly didn't know why he was surprised by that.  

"W-well, there you go! Check it, then, you'll see!" He knew he had nothing to hide, but still, his heart hammered in his chest, and his eyes darted repeatedly between the phone and the other man's face. 

He watched as Ramsay went to both his messages and recent calls, scrolling and searching. He scoffed, a triumphant little smirk on his face as he saw Ramsay squint in realization that there was nothing incriminating to be found. "See? See, what did I tell you? I did nothing wrong, Ramsay, you're being unreasonable." 

"I know you did this," He murmured, eyes drifting up from the phone's screen. "I know you got him to come here. And I know you'll do it again." 

Theon was fed up with this. He snatched his phone out of Ramsay's hand and shoved it in his pocket, attempting to push passed him. "'M going out. I'll be back later, maybe by then you'll have a clear head and will be willing to listen." 

Just as Theon was heading for the door, Ramsay glanced down and noticed the still-untied shoes on the other boy's feet. In one swift movement, he brought his foot down in a stomp on one of the laces, catching Theon mid-step and causing him to crash hard against the door, nose and mouth painfully hitting the wood. 

Theon's heart skipped in surprise as he tripped suddenly, and the next thing he knew the lower half of his face blossomed with pain and blood. He slumped down against the door and gingerly cupped at his face, groaning. Nothing was broken, but the pain was sharp and dizzying, and his eyes watered. He pulled his hands back to see them nearly coated in red, and he moaned, "Gods..." 

Ramsay didn't laugh, didn't smile. Instead, he lunged forward and grabbed Theon by the front of his bloodied shirt and jacket, yanking him up off the floor like he weighed nothing. The ginger, still dazed by his hard fall, wasn't quick enough to react, and he wasn't able to pull away or stop Ramsay before the other man slammed him solidly against the wall and made his head knock back against it. He saw black, then he saw stars, and there was a ringing in his ears as he was grabbed again and dragged into the kitchen, the heels of his shoes scraping the tile floor. In his current state, he couldn't register right away where he was being dragged to, but he still tried to weakly grab and pry at Ramsay's hand, feet clumsily working under him.  

"Rams- Ramsay, stop- stop, my head-. Rams, I fink I have a comcush-concusc-comcussion.." He slurred. 

Ramsay ignored him, silent as he got them to the basement door and wrenched it open. He released Theon but only to tuck an arm around his middle and haul him up over his shoulder like he was a child. The bigger man, now carrying Theon, stomped heavily down the stairs, and the ginger groaned and coughed at the nausea caused by all the movement. Another step down and he was vomiting, splattering the steps and the backs of Ramsay's calves and heels, but the other man, though tensing significantly, didn't stop. 

Even with the view of the basement all around him, and even with the sound of that heavy door being hauled open, it wasn't until they were nearly into the bunker itself that Theon's poor brain was finally able to register where they were. He whined and tried to struggle, but it felt like his limbs were moving in molasses and his head felt so heavy... 

"No, no, Rams..." He said, weakly clawing at his boyfriend's shirt as he was grabbed again and roughly set down on the freezing cement floor. "Please... please..., 'need the hospable..." 

Ramsay pried those grabby hands off himself and knelt down beside Theon, clutching at his jaw and looking into his eyes. They were dilated and unfocused. Fucking idiot, he was probably right about that concussion... "You're not going anywhere, Theon. Not until I'm sure you can be a good boy and won't hurt me again like you're so insistent upon doing lately. You can rest your concussion off down here."  

"No, please... please," The injured male protested, only to be rewarded with a rough rattling of his head that made the vomit rise high in his throat again. He shut up. 

Releasing Theon's jaw, he stood, wiping the stray puke, blood, and drool off his hand and onto his already-dirtied jeans. He stared down at Theon, eyes cold and full of disappointment. His Greyjoy was pathetic there on the floor, moaning and wobbling and starting to cry, looking like some weak little baby. Theon could be upstairs right now, cuddling with his stupid dog on the couch or getting fucked up the ass again until he was mewling like a happy bitch. But no. No, the boy had to go and try to get Ramsay in trouble, and then he'd gotten belligerent when he was caught, lying and throwing attitude everywhere. And then, he had the gall to try and blame it on Ramsay, the gall to just try and walk out on him like that.  

No respect. No fucking respect. The choking didn't work, what more did he have to do to teach his Theon some basic respect? This? Locking him away in the bunker with a nasty headache? Apparently so. 

That was unfortunate. It was very disappointing.  

But it wouldn't be a continuing problem, he'd make sure of that very soon. Theon would be trained, and there would be no more problems like this for either of them.

He bent down and pulled Theon's phone from his pocket, then kissed two of his fingertips and pressed them to the red-head's cheek. He considered him for a moment longer before breaking into a sudden smile. "You know, you look very beautiful right now. Your lying and brattiness aren't doing any favors for you, but I'm not going to deny true loveliness when I see it." 

Theon blinked slow and out of sync as he looked up at him. It only antagonized his pounding headache when he furrowed his brows, so he just muttered a soft, raspy, "Wha...?" 

"Good night, my darling. I might check on you tomorrow, alright? Maybe you'll be more agreeable then, hm?" Ramsay gave him a patronizing pat on the head, then stood once more and strode out of the room.  

Theon heard the heavy footfalls getting fainter until they ended with an abrupt slamming of the metal door and the muffled placing and clicking of the locks.  

If he was in any decent state of health, Theon would be getting to his feet and rushing around looking for a way out, but he could barely lift his head off the floor without the room spinning around him and his stomach trying to vault its way out of his throat. He rested his head against the cool concrete and laid there, shivering, coughing up thick blood in-between drooling and moaning. 

Thankfully, he fell unconscious a minute or two later, and a heavy sleep overtook him.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon awoke several hours later in a daze, head pounding and face sore. Other than shivering hard with the cold, the rest of his body seemed relatively okay, but his head was a nightmare, with even tiny movements causing sharp pains that made him want to throw up or cry. His jaw and nose ached like he went twelve rounds with a boxer, and the back of his head felt much the same. All three parts were also caked with sticky, dried blood. 

Memories of what happened came back in brief and blurry glimpses. He remembered Jon coming over, how he gave Sunny to him, and then he'd argued with Ramsay. He remembered falling, then pain and blood and dizziness, and then Ramsay above him, and that was it. After that, it was all black, and he wished he could remember more.  

Especially since he'd woken up on cold, hard cement, surrounded by darkness and the awful smell of stale vomit, piss, and coppery blood. It took him a moment to realize the darkness was due to no lights being on, not any sort of blindness, and the smells were because of him. The tastes of blood and vomit sat heavily on his tongue, the latter still burning his throat, and his inner thighs chaffed a bit from the dried urine.  

God, he must look like such a mess... well, he'd look that way if there were anyone else in there to see him like that. … _Was_ there anyone else here? 

He groggily sat up and was instantly hit with another wave of nausea. It nearly knocked him back, and he groaned and leaned forward, one hand clutching his stomach while the other went to his forehead.  

After he gathered himself, he slowly lifted his head again and croaked out, "Hello?" 

The sound bounced off the walls in a weak echo. Where was he? Carefully, and at a snail's pace, he lurched forward onto all fours and began to gingerly crawl around, hands feeling about as he moved. For a while, all he felt was the dried remains of vomit and smooth cement under his fingers. As he crawled more, he began to notice the floor sloped down at a slight angle, and when his fingers brushed at what felt like a long, metal grate in front of the wall, a pang of unease rolled in his guts.  

He ignored it and kept moving, turning around to go back to the direction that he came from. The only sounds in the cold, empty room were his hands gently smacking the floor and his knees shuffling along behind him, both occasionally accompanied by him coughing or groaning at the headache he had. 

When his knuckles brushed against what felt like wood, he stopped crawling. He sat up and reached out again, giving it a better feel to find out that yes, it was wood he was touching. The more he felt at it he noted it extended further out and at a slant, and there seemed to be an extra piece embedded near the bottom. Was it a structural beam? He used it for support as he carefully stood himself up, and as he did so his shoulder bumped something. Reaching up, he felt at that, too, and found it to feel exactly the same as the first hunk of wood, only... was that leather?  

Theon knew exactly where he was.

His head whipped around, and he ignored the pain and dizziness of doing so to let his eyes dart around frantically. Breathing harder, he called out in a loud but timid voice, "Ramsay? Ramsay! Ramsay, this isn't funny, this is  _sick_! Let me out, let me out now! Please!" 

Theon stumbled around blindly in the dark, hands held out in front of him until they ran into one of the walls. He tried remembering something Arya had told him at a haunted house event they'd gone to a few years ago, something about keeping your left hand to the wall and it would eventually lead you to your way out? He decided to go with that, trying to use his left hand to follow along the wall as he looked for an exit, absently praying that it wouldn't lead him to one of the extra rooms in the back instead. 

"Fuck me, I wish I had my Sunset right now," he whispered, longing for the comfort the little dog brought him. 

After a minute his hand met a corner, and he rounded it, continuing. His footsteps echoed a little louder in here, and his heart fluttered when he thought this might be the entryway hall. When his fingers brush against a switch on the wall and the room behind him suddenly flooded with buzzing, fluorescent lights, he yelped, startled. Realizing what happened, he glanced back over his shoulder through squinted eyes and saw that, yes, he was just in  _that_ room, but now he was headed the right way and almost to the exit.  

"Oh, thank god," he huffed under his breath. When he got out of here he was going to leave. He was done with this, done with... done with Ramsay. It hurt to think that, it really did, but he knew it would hurt worse to sit around and continue walking on eggshells all the time, continue letting Ramsay flip out on him and do mean, unfunny 'jokes' like this as a way to get back at him. Fuck that, people in normal, healthy,  _loving_ relationships didn't do that shit to each other. He was getting out of here and going to go stay with the Starks until he saved up enough money from his job to get a place of his own.  

He'd miss the girls, though... But maybe, if he and Ramsay could come to an amicable point, Rams would let him visit and possibly even allow him to take care of the dogs for him when he needed it instead of having Ben come around. Yeah, that'd be okay. And maybe he and Ramsay could eventually be friends or something again. And Ramsay, after he realized just what it was he'd lost, would actually be apologetic and nicer.  

He got to the door and sighed, not really looking forward to confronting Ramsay once he got out. It was not going to be pleasant, and he wasn't sure how Ramsay would react to being broken up with, but it was something that needed to be done. 

When he grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, there was a stiff 'clank' sound and the damn thing didn't budge even an inch. His stomach dropped.  

"What? No. No, no, no, no, no-" He gave the handle another frantic yank, even braced his foot against the wall beside it and pulled. "Fucking- No! C'mon, please, please, please!"  

Theon pulled until he lost his grip and stumbled backwards, ass hitting the floor and jostling him. The dazed little ginger couldn't believe it... Ramsay had locked the door. This wasn't some cruel joke, Ramsay had actually locked him in here in the freezing dark with no food or water, and no sign that he'd be coming back.

He didn't know he'd been crying until he felt the warmth of tears roll down his cheeks. 

Jumping up, he ignored the thunderous pain in his head and started to pound his fists against the heavy, metal door, screaming for Ramsay to let him out. 

Up above, Ramsay was in the kitchen, standing near the basement door and rifling through the fridge. He reached for a pack of deli meat and paused, head perking up at the muffled noises coming from downstairs. He stood and closed the fridge, then headed into the basement. His boots on the stairs were a bit noisy, but the creaking couldn't be heard over the racket coming from behind the locked bunker door. Stepping over the puke stain he'd cleaned up earlier, he snuck as quietly as possible over to the door and stopped, leaning in close to listen. 

The banging and thudding were irritating, but oh, those screams and angry sobs were like music to his ears. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sounds for a moment, heat pooling in his lower belly. 

"You spoil me, Theon," He whispered, then turned and headed back up the stairs, shutting the basement door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay didn't come back down again for over an entire day and a half after that. 

When he'd undid the latches and locks and opened that massive door, he'd expected Theon to come falling into his arms and begging to be let out. Or at least, come out swinging and trying to exact revenge. He was a little disappointed when neither scenario happened and he feigned a pout as he walked along down the entryway. 

"Ah, that explains that," He said as he stepped into the brightly-illuminated room and saw Theon in one far corner, curled into a tight ball and sleeping. The boy's body was visibly shivering, and his skin looked a little blue under the sweat and grime that had accumulated on it.  

Ramsay stopped about mid-way through the room and cupped his hands around his mouth, suddenly bellowing out, "THEON! THEON, QUICK, HIDE, THE WHITE WALKERS HAVE COME!" 

Theon jolted awake like he'd been electrocuted, eyes wide and darting, thrashing and gasping as he sat up. "Wha-?! What??" 

When he saw Ramsay standing there, it looked as though he wasn't sure if he was really seeing the other man or not. He'd been concussed, then thrown into a room and left there with no amenities for over two days, so it only made sense that he'd be more than a little out of it. It probably explained why the red-head only weakly protested when Ramsay came over to help him up off the floor, dirty hands trying to push him away before being brushed aside. 

"Shh, darling. Believe me, you are in no state to fight me," he cooed, chuckling as he slipped his arms under Theon's ass and hefted him up into his arms like a child. It reminded him of Halloween night, when Theon was in a similar clumsy, weak state, and it made him smile fondly. Ahh, memories... 

 He wasn't sure if the boy's trembling now was from the cold or from fear, and he decided it was a mixture of both. His breath slightly fogged in the air, and Theon has whimpered when he'd come over. At least he hadn't pissed himself again. 

Ramsay snorted. 

_Speaking of which..._  "You absolutely  _reek_ , Theon! Can you smell yourself? It's disgusting, I can't believe I'm not puking everywhere. I'm glad I'm not, I certainly wouldn't want to add to the mess you've made down here. Pennies, piss, vomit, and sweat? I don't think I'd ever buy that candle. Yes, you reek,  _egh_!" 

"Please..." 

"Reek, reek, it rhymes with meek," the larger man sing-songed. "And meek is what you aren't, but you will be soon, my little Theon!" 

Theon had a hard time properly registering what was coming out of his boyfriend's mouth, too dehydrated and dizzy and feeling sick. He just knew, though, that he was finally being taken from that awful bunker, and he weakly clung to Ramsay despite the feeling of fear in the back of his mind.  

"Ramsay, please," He rasped, throat so dry. "Please, I wanna... 'wanna get out..." 

"And you will! I think you've learned your lesson, dearest, and now we're going to get you all nice and cleaned up. Would you like that, Theon? A bath? Probably some food, too, your poor little belly is so empty." 

"Wat... water..." 

"Water? Oh, of course, of course, silly me! Yes, we'll get you plenty of water, don't you fret." 

Ramsay carried Theon all the way upstairs and to his master bathroom where he set the ginger down on the toilet and moved to get the bath running. Theon sat there shivering and staring off into space, and it looked as though he was about to drop to the floor at any moment. While the bathwater was going, Ramsay turned his attentions back to Theon and began to strip him, tossing his dirty clothes into a pile by the door that he gathered up when he left.  

Theon didn't move while Ramsay was away, just sat there staring at the tiled floor, body slowly warming up from the home's heating.  

When the black-haired man came back, he brought with him a fresh change of clothes and a glass of water and some pills. Theon glanced up and stared at the water with longing, licking his dry, cracked lips and swallowing.  

Ramsay chuckled and smiled with affection. "Patience, love. Here, let me help you in the tub, first."  

He did so, gently lifting the ginger and leading him into the hot, soothing water. Theon shuddered and groaned soft, sinking slowly into the bath. When the glass of water was brought to his lips he took delicate little sips, savoring every drop of the cool liquid. It took a few minutes, but he slowly drank down the whole glass, and Ramsay moved to get him another. 

"You let me know when you're ready for more, alright? Here, sit up, let me start washing you." Theon did so, body aching a bit. Ramsay retrieved the detachable showerhead and got the water running again, sending a gentle downpour over the other boy's head. He watched as the bathwater turned from clear to a grimy, red mess, and he pulled the drain to get rid of it. At the time, he hadn't realized he'd struck Theon's head against the wall hard enough for it to bleed, but he'd seen the mark on the wall and the trail in kitchen, and now the sticky mess above the knot on the back of his lover's head. Poor thing, that must have been a hell of a headache he'd had to deal with down there. Remembering the painkillers, he grabbed them and fed them to Theon, then went back to his washing. 

Theon sat in the water, quiet except for the occasional soft, pained grunt or tiny sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and listened to Ramsay sing to him under his breath for a little while before he finally spoke. "How... how long was I down there?" 

"Hm? A little louder, darling, you're mumbling." 

"How long... was I down there? In the bunker, Ramsay?" 

Ramsay tilted his head back some and made a face as he thought, mouthing the numbers going through his head. He looked back at Theon and said, matter-of-factly, "Roughly fifty hours." 

Theon's tired eyes widened some in disbelief and he gaped at Ramsay. "Fifty... hours? Fifty hours, you left me down there?"  _It felt longer, so much longer... wasn't it longer?_  

Ramsay nodded as if they were talking about the weather, eyes on the hand that scrubbed gently at Theon's chafed thighs. "Yes. I wasn't sure if I should have gotten you sooner or left you longer, but clearly, you're alright.  _And_ , I think you may have learned a lesson or two, as well! Isn't that good, Theon?" 

Theon's eyes had wandered back down to the water, and he was silent for a moment before breaking into tears. He shook with his sobs and his head bowed, face screwing up as the tears fell.  

Ramsay frowned. "Aww, come now, Theon. You did just fine and I'm not mad at you anymore, no reason to cry!" 

"You don't understand, you can't- you can't do that!" Theon cried. His words were still a bit slurred and clumsy, but they were plenty clear, and oh, Ramsay understood. He bristled a little but kept his cool. 

"Can't do what, my love? Keep you locked in the bunker? I beg to differ, especially when it's for your own good." 

Theon gave him a look like he was crazy. "' _My own good_ '…? Ramsay, you can't... you can't honestly believe that. Y-you locked me in that fucking bunker with no food, no water, no blankets, nothing!! And my head was all fucked up, I was injured!"

He sobbed again and Ramsay leaned in closer, shushing him and speaking soothingly, "Hush, darling, hush... I knew you'd be alright, I really did. You're strong, and I had faith in you. It gave you plenty of time to calm down and think, and now we'll be able to speak on better, easier terms. We still have some things to work out, and now we'll be able to do it with our heads cleared." 

Theon couldn't speak after that, too shocked and upset. Ramsay was worse than he'd thought, the man was fucking delusional and it looked like there'd be no convincing him.  

There would be no hesitation. He had to break up with Ramsay and end this tonight. If he missed the dogs, missed the house, missed... missed Ramsay, well, so be it. It was for the best. It was for his own good. 

They finished his bath after another fifteen minutes or so, and by then he'd stopped crying and just let Ramsay take care of him. He was clean and wearing the jeans and t-shirt Ramsay had brought up for him, and his wounds were treated and given ice. It was a bit late for that, but better late than never, he supposed. 

They then went downstairs to the kitchen where Ramsay made them some soup, and even though he was starving when he first came up he really didn't feel like eating now. Still, he did, not wanting to agitate the other man, especially before he had to end things with him. Ramsay seemed to be in a rather cheery mood, twittering about this, that, and the other while they ate. Theon had nothing to contribute to the conversation, but that seemed to be just fine.  

The two men cleaned up the kitchen, afterwards Theon went outside for a bit to spend some time with the dogs. He couldn't help but notice Ramsay frequently 'checking in' on him more than was necessary, but he brushed it aside for now. He wasn't going to run away, he couldn't, he had to face his problems head-on and end things before they got worse. He didn't want Ramsay getting any wrong ideas and end up thinking they were still together or anything.  

He made sure to hug each girl tightly and give them kisses, and he made sure to tell them how much he loved them and that it would be okay if they came to visit him some time. They only licked his face and nuzzled him, not understanding the situation and seemingly not sensing his fears and apprehensions.  

When he came back inside, he found Ramsay sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some serial killer documentary. Oh, lovely, like he needed that on in the background after everything. 

Ramsay looked over at him and smiled, then patted at his lap. "There you are! Come here, watch this with me. It's very good." 

Theon shoved one hand in his pocket, the other moving up to rub his temples and pinch the bridge of his nose. He closed his sore eyes and swallowed, his throat feeling too thick to speak.  

"What? What, now? If you want to bring them in, you can, I don't care." 

Theon forced himself to look at Ramsay again.  _Face this, come on... you're in control of your life, you're a grown man, and you won't be pushed around like this._  "Ramsay, we need to talk." 

Ramsay scoffed. "What exactly do you think it is we're doing right now, Theon?"

Goddammit, he hated when Ramsay did that. Why couldn't the man ever seem to take anything legitimately serious? He sighed heavily and closed his eyes again, counting down from ten as his hands clenched and unclenched beside him. 

"…Are you preparing for an awards speech or something? Are you going to address the nation? You-" 

"I'm breaking up with you." It all spilled out of his mouth, nearly coming as one long word, and he'd said it before he'd even realized he had. It... it felt good, though, or rather extremely liberating. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off his chest. 

Something flashed in Ramsay's expression, and for a moment he almost looked stunned. Then, a cool rage became clear in his eyes and Theon felt that stare burn a hole through his chest. The other man's tone was eerily flat and final. "No. You're not." 

That weight that had been lifted off Theon's chest came back like it was dropped from ten stories up, and the breath came out of his lungs in a heavy exhale. He cleared his throat and steadied himself, voice confident enough despite a crack or two. "Yes, I am. I am, I swear it. Me and you, Ramsay, we're done, I-I can't do this anymore." 

Ramsay stood, and he looked like a panther as he stalked towards Theon, eyes never leaving the younger man's face. "'Can't'? Or you won't? That doesn't sound very strong to me, in fact, you sound an awful lot like a quitter right now, Theon." 

"I don't care what I sound like! I can't, I won't, I'm not doing this anymore, Ramsay!" 

Ramsay's gaze never wavered, only grew more intense. He strode over, slow and menacing, and Theon hated that he felt himself starting to cower. "No, Theon, you don't just get to break up with me like that. You don't just get to leave, that's not fair, not when you haven't even tried." 

Theon wanted to scream. It was like trying to talk to a blank wall. "What are you even- what does that  _mean_?! I  _have_ tried! I've done nothing but try with you these last couple days, Ramsay, that's all I've been doing! See, this is part of the problem, you never listen to me! You- you keep, I dunno, fucking blaming me and saying all these weird things, and it's so 'me, me, me' with you! What about me, Ramsay, why can't  _I_ be the one that's trusted or made an effort for? Why do I have to keep proving myself to you?" 

Ramsay didn't say anything, he just stood four feet away, seething and tense.  

Theon continued, "We don't- we don't have a healthy relationship, Ramsay, it's- fuck, there's so much wrong with it! Why can't you see that?" 

The dark-haired man finally spoke again, talking slow and with just a hint of a tremor in his tone as if he was trying to restrain his brewing anger. "I see just fine, Theon. I like the way our relationship is. We're nearly perfect." 

"Nearly- wh- ' _nearly perfect_ '? What? No, Ramsay, we were not 'nearly perfect', we're completely dysfunctional! Maybe before, we were good, but I don't know what the fuck happened. We're anything but perfect and –gods- I just wish you'd see that!" 

Ramsay came at him, hand going behind his back to pull out the flip-knife he'd stowed away in his back pocket. Theon heard the click as the weapon flipped open and barely had time to stumble back from the arm that swung at his chest. He yelped, flailing, and as he fell his hand slapped against the side-table by the door and knocked the ashtray off of it.  

He didn't think twice. He grabbed one end of the thick, glass ashtray and swung it heavily at Ramsay's arm just as it was attempting to swing down on him again. It collided hard with the other man's wrist, and Ramsay snarled in pain as the blade went flying against the wall. The bigger male clutched his injured arm and growled at Theon, moving to attack him again, but Theon was quick from the adrenaline, and Ramsay's head was the next target of the ashtray.  

It caught him in the temple, blood immediately spilling onto the two of them, and Ramsay went side-ways, stumbling and dropping to the floor in a daze. He stared at the floor for a moment, wide eyes blinking rapidly as his vision went in and out. 

Theon took this opportunity to jump back up to his feet, and he went for the door, grabbing the handle and twisting. He'd gotten the door yanked open just as a big hand grabbed his ankle, and suddenly the ground was swept out from beneath his feet. He slammed onto the floor of the porch and the air went out of him in a rush, but before he could properly catch his breath there was a heavy weight climbing on top of him and roughly yanking his head back by his hair. 

" _Ramsay_ -!" He cried, but the sting of cold metal against his throat shut him up quickly. He felt the blade press closer, nipping at his already-bruised throat, as well as the hot breath of his former lover huffing against his ear. He shut his eyes tight and whimpered, trembling hard under Ramsay. "'M sorry! Please... please, please-" 

"Don't. Don't you fucking say 'please' again unless you're on your knees and begging for my cock." 

That voice was like ice. He gave a choked sob and instantly regretted it, the hitching movement causing the blade to jump and nick his skin. The sharp, tiny bit of pain made him more scared and he couldn't help it when a few tears slipped from his eyes and joined the blood from Ramsay's forehead onto the wood of the porch.  

"Ramsay... 'm so sorry, pl- … 'm sorry, lemme go..." 

A high, airy chuckle. "Let you go? Oh no, no, no, Theon, I can't do that. I'm supposed to reward your bad behavior? I think not." 

"Baby, please... 'm sorry, I mean it!" 

"Oh, I'm sure you are. But Theon, you know I can't let this go unpunished." 

The blade on his neck moved just slightly and Theon broke down in frightened sobs. He didn't care how pathetic he probably looked and sounded, he just wanted to live. "Please! Please, Ramsay, please, oh gods, don't kill me! 'M sorry, 'm sorry, I don't want to die!" 

Ramsay's eyes closed for a moment as he took in the sound of those begging cries, the way Theon's breath hitched, the way he whimpered. He licked his lips and smiled, tone going from ice to warm silk in an instant. "Darling, have a little dignity. I'm not going to kill you, I love you! You're just going to be punished for being a naughty boy, that's all. Now. Are you going to be agreeable and compliant, or will I have to cut you a little? Hm?" 

Theon cursed that damned knife and he cursed that cunt Damon for having bought it. At least, it wasn't the knife  _he'd_ gotten for Ramsay. This whole situation was bad enough, he didn't need extra salt in his wounds. 

He whispered, "Yes. Yes, I'll be good, I promise..." 

"Good. Come, darling," Ramsay released his hold on Theon's hair and he moved to stand, staying bent slightly to tuck an arm under the ginger's torso so he could haul him up. He pressed Theon against his front and marched them back into the house, and as he began to near the kitchen, Theon started to panic.  

"No-!" He thrashed in Ramsay's arms, and when the knife was back at his throat he stopped immediately, voice coming out as a weak moan. "No, no bunker, please, I can't..." 

Ramsay glanced at the basement door a few yards away, then back at Theon. "No? You're too good for the bunker? I don't know about that, I think it's perfectly suited for you. Plenty of ways to restrain those swinging arms of yours, yes?" 

"Ramsay," Theon sobbed. "Ramsay, 'm scared... " 

The Bolton son pretended to think for a moment, then he sighed dramatically. "Well! Alright, I suppose I could let you stay up in your attic. But you have to promise you'll be very, very good. Can I trust you, Theon?" 

Theon gasped and nodded quickly, so glad to hear his attic mentioned. He only hoped it wasn't a cruel trick. "Yes! Gods, yes, I'll be good! I'll be good! I won't make a sound, I won't do anything, I promise, I'll be so good!" 

Ramsay chuckled and pressed a kiss to Theon's cheek over his shoulder. "Now that is what I like to hear. Come! Upstairs!" 

They headed up there, and when Ramsay released his hold on Theon the smaller man immediately went to sit on his bed, moving to the farthest part away from where Ramsay stood. His eyes were big and teary, and he shook as he looked at his roommate.  

Ramsay sat at the end of the bed, noting how Theon jumped a bit with him coming closer. That was a shame. "Ohh, Theon... you don't have to be scared of me." He looked down at the flip-knife before folding it shut and throwing it to the other end of the room. He showed his empty hands. "See? Nothing, my love. Just me." 

Unfortunately for Theon, it only took Ramsay himself for him to be terrifying, knife in hand or not. "Ramsay, I just- I just want to sleep..." 

"And you will. After I'm done talking. Okay?" 

Theon nodded. 

"Do you see what you did to me, Theon?" He pointed up at the gash in his temple and the tacky, drying blood on his face, neck, and shirt. The red contrasting against those eyes made the blue of them even more striking and unnerving. 

Theon nodded again. He wasn't proud, he wasn't happy, and he certainly wasn't aroused by the wound and the blood. He was upset he ever had to cause it. "Yes. But you hurt me-" 

"Oh, did I, Theon? When?" 

"When you locked me in the bunker! A-and before that, with my face and my head! And just now, out on the porch, see, you cut my neck!" 

"But did I 'hurt' you before you cracked me with an ashtray?" 

"Yes! You were trying to  _stab_ me!" 

"I did no such thing. I was only trying to upset you because I was angry.  _You_ overreacted. And when I held that knife to your throat it was only because I wasn't sure whether or not you were still a threat." 

Theon stared at him, unable to believe what was coming out of Ramsay's mouth. He was doing it again, that blaming, that doubting thing, the excuses! He shook his head and buried his face in his hands. Why? Why bother arguing with someone like this? He'd never get through to him. 

"Don't be ashamed, Theon. See, I understand what you did. It's what I would have done. It's what anyone would have done. So, I'm not mad at you, not really." 

"You're crazy..." 

Ramsay tilted his head, unsure he heard right. "What was that, sweetness? Speak up, you're muffled." 

Theon lifted his head, red, puffy eyes on Ramsay. "I said, you're crazy. This thinking isn't normal Ramsay, what you do and how you... you justify it isn't normal. You need help." 

Ramsay stared at Theon for a long, uncomfortable moment, and the attention made Theon want to crawl under the sheets and hide. He startled when Ramsay broke the eye contact and stood up abruptly, coming 'round the bed to where he sat. The ginger visibly flinched, expecting to be struck or thrown off the bed. A hand did lay upon him, but only to stroke his hair in a surprisingly-gentle manner. He wasn't sure which type of contact he would have preferred at the moment. 

The black-haired male clucked his tongue and sighed, looking and sounding as if he was scolding a child. "Oh, my Theon... If only you knew just how much you hurt me. You would regret and take back everything you said. I know you would."  

Theon huddled in on himself, face forward to the opposite wall, but his eyes were watching Ramsay. He winced when cool lips pressed against his scalp, and he watched with growing relief as the other man finally headed for the door. 

Ramsay stopped there, back still to Theon and finger on the light switch. "You've got a  _lot_ of thinking to do, my dear. I hope the warmth and comfort of your room allows you to think more clearly. Allows you to realize how grateful and apologetic you should be. It could be worse. I love you, Theon, very much. Get some rest and maybe I'll see you tomorrow, if you're being a good boy." 

The lights went out and Ramsay left, shutting the door behind himself.  

Theon didn't dare move from the bed. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was the next evening when Ramsay's boys had come over. They were loud and obnoxious, very distracting to poor Theon who only wanted to rest off whatever remained of his concussion and injuries.  

Ramsay hadn't been up to check on him at all today, but he must have come up at some point while the boy was sleeping, because the attic door was locked. The windows were, too, though he wasn't sure when the hell that had happened.  

He'd spent his day pacing and crying in frustration, and when he wasn't doing those things he was sleeping. Now, though, he was too awake and too irritable, too angry and scared. He couldn't believe the way he was being treated; what was this, the middle ages? What kind of person attacks their boyfriends – _ex_ -boyfriends- and then locks them up?  _Twice_? And not only that, but has the audacity to blame it all on them? 

Psychopaths, that's who. 

He was upset at himself, too, though. He wished he'd seen through Ramsay's manipulative craziness during the first time he'd been assaulted and blamed, but he just wanted so hard to believe, wanted so badly to see the good in someone who just didn't have it. Everyone was right, and he hated that he was such a fool, that he let some dumb crush and a few nice gestures blind him so much that he didn't see things right from the start. 

But he didn't blame himself entirely, at least, he didn't think he could. He couldn't help but fall for Ramsay Bolton, the man was so handsome and sweet and clever and fun, and they'd just fit together so perfectly. Theon mourned the loss of  _his_ Ramsay. There had been times this last week where he thought he was seeing him again despite what had happened, that it was just one bad slip-up on one bad day, and his Ramsay was truly sorry. He didn't see that Ramsay yesterday, no matter how sweet his voice got, no matter how affectionate the gestures, no matter how many 'I love you's' were said. His Ramsay was gone, and he needed to be gone with him. 

Theon got out of his bed and paced the floor again, thinking. He couldn't leave out the attic door, it was locked. And even if it wasn't, or if he did manage to get it unlocked, someone would no doubt hear or see him while he tried to sneak downstairs to either exit. Ramsay had odd sleeping hours, but when the boys were around they might all be up well until sunrise, and he didn't want to have to wait for them to all fall asleep or for them to leave. Besides, what if Ramsay checked on him before then, what if he decided to take Theon from the attic and keep him where he could see him? No. No, he had to get out now, damn the waiting.  

He looked to the vaulted windows and decided to try them again. He grabbed the handle of one and wiggled it, the latch giving a faint 'click' as it went down. He blushed at his own stupidity and groaned at himself. The windows weren't locked, they were just frozen shut. He gave the window a nudge and it loudly creaked. Shit. He needed to be careful, someone might hear him, or he might set off the girls. He looked around his room for something to pry the window open with, huffing a dry laugh when his eyes spotted the flip-knife Ramsay had thrown yesterday. Gods, how had he forgotten about that stupid thing? 

"Guess your gift wasn't so shitty after all, Damon," he murmured, picking it up and going over to the window. After a silent prayer in hopes that the knife wouldn't break and the window wouldn't stick, he popped open the blade and slipped the thin metal between the cracks, sawing and prodding it through. After a minute, the ice was loosened enough to where he was finally able to nudge open the window without much noise.  

"Thank god..." Theon went and got some proper clothes on, and he pulled a hoodie on and another jacket after that. He grabbed a winter cap, then laced up some boots, and after grabbing his wallet he headed for the open window. Catching sight of the knife again, he decided he'd better keep it with him just in case, and it was promptly folded up and shoved into his back pocket.  

The ginger climbed up onto the snow-covered roof and shut the window behind himself. It was freezing out here, and the wind bit at his face a bit harshly, but gods it felt good to be out in the open, to have fresh air in his lungs. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a happy laugh nearly bubbling up out of him. A sudden burst of raucous, muffled laughter from somewhere down below ripped him out of his little moment and he quickly got himself back into focus.  

He inched toward the edge of the rooftop, and he didn't have to look down to know how high he was. But he had to do this, he had to risk an uncomfortable landing if it meant he'd be on his way to freedom, and if he had to crawl to it because of a broken leg or two he would. Swallowing his fear as best he could, he got himself flat on his belly and crawled the rest of the way to the edge where he started creeping over it with his side. 

"C'mon, The'... you can do this, just hold on tight... there's plenty of snow at the bottom, it's okay..."  

He held onto the gutter, but a slippery patch of snow and ice on the tiles nearly threw him off the roof. He gasped sharply, cold, red fingers going white-knuckled on the metal of the gutter, which creaked and wobbled. Shit, he had to let go and drop down before this thing collapsed. It scared him, but he knew he had to, he knew it was better to have a fucked-up leg than a broken neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, bracing himself before he let go.  

When he hit the large, deep snowdrift, there was a loud 'paff!', and a flurry of snow blew up around him. He'd landed a little awkwardly on one foot, and his ankle seemed to be the only thing crying out in pain. Wincing, he sat up and checked it. It was only a bad sprain, nothing more. He looked up at the orange-grey skies and mouthed a 'thank-you'.

The girls began to growl and snap their jaws in their kennel, and Theon startled. He jumped up and limped over to the little building, shushing them as quietly as he could. "Babies!" He whispered, a bit frantic. "Babies, please, shh, it's just Theon, it's just me, just daddy, shhh! See? It's okay, no reason to bark, you don't need to tell anyone I'm here, okay? Thank you, good girls, I love you!" 

He wished he could stay longer with them and give them proper goodbyes, but there was no time for that. He needed to leave now just in case Ramsay decided to check on him or if any of the boys had heard anything.  

Theon hurried as quickly as he could towards the wooded area with his injured leg, and he was so grateful that the snow that was falling would soon cover his tell-tale tracks. If he could just make it the three miles to Roose's house he'd be in the clear. That man wouldn't put up with Ramsay's mental shit, he'd see the state Theon was in and keep him safe in his home or drive him into town to a hospital.  

At least, he hoped Roose would.  

Theon had made it passed the first section of woods, passed the first field, when the distant sounds of barking hit his ears.  

He openly sobbed, stumbling and falling into the snow.  

He knew those barks. Theon would always know those barks. And he knew what kind they were, too. They were the barks of dogs on the hunt, and he knew he was the prey.  

Clumsily, he got back up, not even bothering to brush the snow off himself as he carried onward. 

"Gods, please, please, just let me make it to Roose, please!" He begged in desperation up at the open sky. There was only silence and snow as his answer, and he'd never felt more terrified in his life, not even when there had been hands or a knife at his throat. 

He was half-way to Roose's property, he was sure of it. He'd only been through this way when there was no snow, but he was certain it was still familiar, still the way to the elder Bolton's place.  

His extremities were numb, and he shivered under his clothes. His face was red and stung by the wind, and snot constantly ran from his nose. His lips were chapped and his throat was dry, and the more he forced himself through the deepening snow the more exhausted and slow he became. Still, he pushed himself forward. He had to, he had to keep going. 

He wouldn't let the girls catch him, he wouldn't let Ramsay hurt him anymore. He didn't want to die tonight, he wanted to live so much longer, experience so much more, and thoughts of Sunny, of Robb and the Starks, of Yara, of the open sea, all gave him further encouragement to keep moving.  

Theon could do this.  

...Until he was stumbling through the next section of dense pines, and the sounds of the girls were closer, much too close. He thought he could hear his name, too, faintly. His eyes widened and welled with frightened tears, and his heart pounded harder in his chest from more than just exertion. If only, if only he was faster, if only his leg wasn't hurt and there wasn't so much snow. He felt like a wounded deer, and briefly wondered when the next 'arrow' would come zipping into his back. 

As he was hobbling along, he began to smell chimney smoke and horses. He'd been running so long and had been so distracted by his hunters that he hadn't even realized just how far he'd gone. He couldn't see any lights, couldn't see any sign of the property yet, but the smells were enough to tell him he was almost there, and he gave a broken cry of relief. Theon couldn't wait to be somewhere safe, he couldn't wait to rest his aching lungs and bones. 

He wasn't paying close enough attention to the ground, and an uplifted root caught him on his injured side and wrenched his ankle further as he tripped and fell hard into the snow and pine needles. The ginger cried out in pain and shock, much louder than he'd meant to, and he immediately regretted it when the girls' barking changed in pitch.  

But suddenly, there was silence. It was an eerie silence that shook him to his core and frightened him more than the barking ever could, and he stopped moving entirely, his body going still there on the ground. His wide eyes darted from side to side and his breath left him in quick, panted clouds.  

Out of the not-too-distant silence, a soft, slow singing crept through the air.  

" _My girl, my girl, don't lie to me_  

_Tell me where did you sleep last night_  

_In the pines, in the pines, where the sun_ _don't_ _ever shine_  

_I would shiver the whole night through..._ " 

Theon and Robb had always laughed at movies and shows that thought creepy songs sung by the bad guys would equal scary. To them, it was always so hokey, too cheesy and try-hard, like the ones where they tried to make ugly dolls or little girls in dresses appear terrifying by having them sing some dumb, off-key nursery rhyme. They often mocked those scenes, and would repeat the spooky songs to tease and prank their younger siblings. 

If this was a movie scene, he and Robb would definitely be laughing and throwing their popcorn at the screen.

But it wasn't a movie, and he wasn't with Robb or anyone else. He was utterly alone, trapped in the snow, and the monster who was after him wasn't some possessed doll or ghost child, it was Ramsay Bolton, the man he'd loved and who was trying to hunt him down like an animal despite that love.  

" _My girl, my girl, where will you go_  

_I'm going where the cold wind blows_  

_In the pines, in the pines, where the sun_ _don't_ _ever shine_  

_I would shiver the whole night through..._ " 

Theon wasn't laughing. 

Theon was crying, and he was trying to crawl away, dragging himself through the pine needles and dirt, numb fingers pulling him along in the snow. Even when the voice was right above him, even when those big, black boots were right at his side, he kept crawling, sobbing and panting and moaning, a flurry of whimpered ' _please_ 's leaving his mouth. 

He could hear the panting of the girls and the jingling of their collar tags, but those sounds didn't bring him comfort like they normally would, only dread. They didn't approach him, though, they just kept their distance and followed their master as they waited for their next order. 

"... _And his body never was found..._ "The singing faded into silence once more, and one of those big, black boots set itself upon his back, halting him. The voice, no longer singing, cooed to him from up above, "Theon, oh Theon... what am I going to do with my Theon?" 

He broke into louder sobs and pleas again, hands clutching at the snow. "Ramsay, please! Please, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I-" 

A hand grabbed the collar of his coat and yanked him right up off the ground, and he was met with the livid face of his hunter. Even in the dim lighting, those blue eyes still seemed to shine. The bigger man's expression worsened, and he snarled in Theon's face. 

"You're  _sorry_? You didn't  _mean it_?? You didn't mean to break my trust and betray me all over again, Theon Greyjoy? Is that it??" 

Theon was shaken hard, and he yelped when the lump on the back of his head knocked against the rough trunk of the pine behind him. "Ramsay, ple-" 

A punch to the mouth cut him off, and immediately he was overwhelmed with the taste of blood. One of his lower teeth felt a bit loose, too, but he didn't have time to think on it as another punch caught him in the stomach, and then a third to his cheek. He was about to receive a fourth when a noise behind them surprised them both. 

Ramsay whipped his head around to look over his shoulder, and his fist hung there in mid-hit as he stared in disbelief. Theon, dizzy but still clear-headed enough, looked, too, and he saw Kyra, Willow, and Helicent hunkered down and stalking toward Ramsay, hackles raised, and their teeth bared in an angry snarl.  

"You disloyal cunts..." Ramsay breathed before grabbing Theon and pulling him against himself, whirling around on them with his roommate as a shield. The dogs still crept closer, growling, snapping their jaws.  

"GIRLS!!" Theon suddenly screamed, thrashing and sobbing in Ramsay's arms, trying to get away. "GIRLS, GET HIM, GET HIM, SIC HIM, PLEASE!! KYRA, HELIC-!"  

His jaw was grabbed with a bruising grip and shoved shut by Ramsay's big hand, and he was yanked in too close to the other man who screamed with such terrifying, commanding force.  

" ** _SIT. DOWN. NOW. DOWN. SIT THE FUCK DOWN._** "  

The girls, preparing to lunge at their master, stopped in their tracks and hesitated. Their jowls closed and they shrunk submissively as they did as they were told, sitting themselves down into the snow and dirt. It was almost as if they'd never disobeyed in the first place. 

"Good. Good girls." 

Theon was devastated.  

He wasn't looking directly at him, but even from the corner of his eye Theon could clearly see the absolute, seething rage in those bared teeth and icy blues. His stomach dropped and he stopped thrashing immediately, going still as a statue. 

Ramsay leaned in even closer and Theon whimpered when he felt those lips brush his cheek. 

"If you ever...  ** _ever_**... call  _my_ girls against me ever again," he hissed low and slow and forceful, breath hot against Theon's wind-stung face. "I will shoot each one of them dead right in front of you, and then you will eat their meat and wear their skins. Do you hear me, Theon? Do you understand?" 

Theon nodded his head so quickly he made himself nauseous. 

"Good," Ramsay purred, though the fury was still all over his face. He shoved Theon away from himself and into the snow, moving to stand above him. "Get up. We're going home, now. If you try anything, anything at all, I will take my pistol and put a hole right through one of those pretty green eyes of yours. You will be food for the dogs, the ones who seem to love you so much." 

The last part was tinged with bitterness and jealousy, but Theon didn't have time to register any of that, not when he had orders to obey. He got up as best he could with his worsened ankle, and he slowly began to make his way back to where he'd tried running from. 

The girls followed, heads hung low and ears folded back. Theon wished he could thank them for trying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Rambo was singing is "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" by Leadbelly. (Or Nirvana, or Janel Drewis, if you prefer some covers.)


	9. Blood and Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, violence and torture (not excessively described, but still, thought I'd mention it's there).

They got back to the house a while  later , maybe an hour or so since Ramsay had caught up to Theon .  The walk home was long and so cold, but Theon was almost grateful for the latter as it numbed the places  where his body was  hurting. It  was a painfully- quiet the entire  time, t oo,  t he only noises being the crunch of  their boots in the  snow and the  girls panting  and following.  T here  were a few times during the walk where he'd try to start talking, but he was always quickly silenced with a kick to the back that would send him sprawling into the  powder .

When they finally arrived home, it was late. Still, Theon saw all the boys' cars parked out front, and he bowed his head and whimpered a little.  _Of-fucking-course they're still here_... The situation was humiliating enough, he didn't need those bullying pricks seeing him like this and harassing him, but of course here they still were.

They got to the front door and Ramsay pressed close up against Theon's back, feeling him tremble. He tilted his head to murmur in his ear, "Be a good boy and go inside. I have to put the girls back in their kennel. When I come back, I'll come and get you, okay?"

Theon nodded, voice a hushed murmur. "Yes, Rams."

"Good," Ramsay said, smiling. He left the porch and headed 'round back, the three dogs following after him.

Theon stared down at the door knob and went to grab for it, but he hesitated. He could hear the men in there, laughing and talking, and he dreaded having their attention on him. Maybe if he tried to come in as quietly as possible, he could sneak passed them all and get up to the attic, or at least run up there before they could really notice him?

He was cold and numb, and his skin was filthy with dirt, sweat, and a bit of blood, and all he wanted to do was slip into the bath and then crawl into bed. 

Deeming the comforts to be worth any potential harassment, he turned the knob and gently pushed it open, then made an attempt to creep inside where he waited a moment to listen. No one called out to him and he sighed a relief. He stepped carefully, knocking snow and water on to the polished wooden floors, and he was nearly to the stairs when Skinner's voice called out to him above the din. 

"Looks like Ramsay caught you. Either that, or you came back to the house to confuse him."

Theon froze. The boys laughed.

"Had to be the latter, I can't imagine Ramsay letting this cunt live. None of the other ones got that privilege," Alyn mumbled that last part around the mouth of his beer, downing a swig.

Theon frowned, not sure he'd heard that right. He shook it off and grunted, trying to continue his way upstairs. He wasn't even remotely in the mood for any of them and their teasing. "Fuck off..."

"What was that?" Skinner stood, the other boys doing the same right after. "Speak up, faggot."

"I said,  _fuck off_! All of you, leave me alone!" As he went to ascend the stairs, he heard heavy footfalls thundering his way and he started to rush. One of the boys grabbed him by the hood of his jacket and yanked him back down, choking him for a second. He gagged and flew back against them, landing against one broad chest. They laughed, and he started to struggle, crying out, "Let go!" 

It was Skinner's chest he'd landed against, and a strong arm slipped itself under his chin and pinned him there. Hot, beer-and-smoke-sour breath blew over his skin as his captor growled, "You'd better apologize to us, Greyjoy. Didn't Ramsay pound manners into that thick head of yours, yet? Maybe we should keep you right here until he gets back, huh? You think he'll be glad to see his prey having waltzed back through the front door like it was his own house?"

Theon thrashed, but it was hard with that thick arm limiting his breathing. Still, he horse-kicked back at Skinner's shin and earned a flinch and a grunt of pain for it. A heavy hand cuffed him hard in the side of the head, but he didn't stop, snapping at them, "Oh fuck you, fuck all of you! Let me go,  _NOW_!"

A punch to his gut made his knees buckle, and the air went out of him in a rush. Whoever had struck him had managed to get a bullseye right in the bruise that was already forming from the punch he'd received from Ramsay earlier. He gasped and wheezed, fingers weakly clutching at Skinner's arm. 

"Y'know, Greyjoy, I really don't think Ramsay will appreciate your disrespect towards us. We're guests in your home, shouldn't you be wearing a cute little maid outfit while you trot around and serve us drinks?" Damon said, chuckling. 

_Fuck you, Damon, fuck you_. Theon whimpered and grunted, gasping a little for breath, and his nails dug into Skinner's arm with no effect. Where was Ramsay, didn't he say he was just going to put the dogs away? Why wasn't he back, yet? 

He couldn't believe these assholes were making him wish for Ramsay's presence...

Theon glared up at all of them as best he could, but it was hard to look menacing when an arm was restraining him and he couldn't even properly stand straight. When his glare made its way to Damon, a thought struck him. He suddenly remembered the knife tucked away in his back pocket, the one Ramsay had tossed aside. No one knew he had it on him, not even its owner.

He slumped against Skinner, hands dropping to his sides.

Ben grunted. "'Bout fucking time that little shit tired out, I thought he'd never give up." 

"Aww, poor baby's tuckered out. Careful, Skinner, you're gonna strangle the little idiot."

"Naw, he's fine, see? He can breathe just enough. What should we do with him, now?"

"Dunno. You think Ramsay's still out there? Maybe we should go look for him, show him what we found."

While the men talked to each other, Theon's hand inched its way to his back pocket until he pulled the knife free. He flipped it open, then, with only a split second's hesitation, he swung his hand back behind himself and plunged the knife half-way into Skinner's upper thigh. The bigger man screamed in surprised pain, instantly shoving Theon away as he stumbled back, hands flying down to the wound in his leg.

"What the fuck, what happened?!" Alyn's wide eyes darted between the two men, stunned. 

Skinner jabbed a bloody finger in Theon's direction. " _HE FUCKIN' STABBED ME_!!" 

Three heads whipped around to face him. He swallowed thickly and held the knife up defensively in front of him, green eyes darting this way and that between the four men. "D-don't... don't come near me, I'll fucking- I'll fucking stab you again, all of you!"

Even he wasn't convinced by his own threat, despite having just shanked Skinner.

Damon finally recognized the knife in Theon's grip and he scowled, angry. "How the fuck did you get that, you little twat? What'd you do with Ramsay??"

"I-I killed him! I did, I killed him dead in those woods, I swear it!" He instantly regretted saying that, feeling stupid. He didn't know where Ramsay was now or what was taking so long, but the man himself could walk through that door at any moment. He didn't know who he was trying to convince more, himself or the boys. "Stay back! Fucking- stop! Don't come any closer to me!"

The four men, huge and enraged, started coming at him, and he whimpered, hands shaking. He nearly dropped the knife as his heels collided with the stairs behind him, knocking him down onto his ass. Tightening his grip on the handle, he swung the knife clumsily and frantically at his attackers, catching Alyn and Ben on the fingers and palms as they tried to grab his wrist.

Another hand darted in from the side and snatched up his wrist in a tight, bruising hold. Surprised, he dropped the knife and his panicked stare whipped around to see it was Ramsay who had him. The man must have just come in through the back door, and he must have been outside this whole time as his cheeks and nose were tinged pink and his black hair was flecked with snow. What the hell had he been doing out there for so long? Did he leave Theon alone with the boys on purpose?

"Rams!" Theon gasped. He was scared, but he couldn't help the relief he felt now that his ex was here to control the other men.

"He fuckin' stabbed Skinner!" 

"He stole my- your knife!"

"We found him, he came into the house, we-

"I'm gonna  _kill_ him-!"

"Where were you, what happened??"

"Ah, ah, ah, shh, shh! Hush," Ramsay raised a single finger and shushed at them like they were fussy children. It was silent in the room now, except for Theon's panting. The Bolton son looked from Theon to his boys, eyes roving over each of them, at the blood pooling under Skinner's boot, then to the bloody flip-knife on the floor, and finally returning to Theon.

He leaned in close, stare intense and hold still uncomfortably firm around Theon's wrist. "Is this true, Theon? Did you stab Skinner with Damon's stolen knife? A knife that was a gift for  _me_ , by the way, not you."

"Rams!" He spoke quickly, his free hand grabbing at Ramsay's shoulder. "Rams, please! I-I did. I did those things, but 'm sorry!"

The larger man raised a brow.

"I swiped the knife Damon gave you, but you'd left it in my room and I took it for protection... and then when you sent me in here, they... Look, I didn't want to, I swear I didn't want to, but I thought they were going to kill me! They came at me, and then I was choked and hit! Please, Ramsay, you have to believe me!"

Ramsay stared down at him, silent. The ginger couldn't read that gaze, but he tried hard to plead with his own, tried to show with his eyes that he was telling the truth. He didn't want to get into any more trouble than he was already in, especially not if those other sociopaths were involved... 

Ramsay's hand left Theon's wrist and went to cup his face. The touch was surprisingly gentle, intimate, even, and the red-head shuddered and choked back a tiny sob. A calloused thumb stroked his skin and brushed a stray tear aside, and Theon leaned into the touch, eyes closing. The Bolton's other hand went up and kneaded itself in Theon's messy hair, petting it soothingly.

Theon gave a shaky sigh and whispered, "'M sorry..."

His head was suddenly yanked back by his hair, and the hand on his face moved to clutch at his jaw, finger tips adding to the bruises that were already put there earlier. He yelped in pain, and his hands shot up to clutch at Ramsay's own.

"You're  _sorry_?" Ramsay hissed. "How am I supposed to believe that when all you do is one bad thing after another? How can I believe you're sorry when you're practically everything  _but_ obedient?"

"Please-!"

"Ohh, trust me, I want to believe you, my darling, but you've been so bad, so ungrateful, so, so disrespectful..."

Theon sobbed. He hated it, he hated that he was crying like this in front of these men, he hated that he looked so weak and afraid. He wished he could be like he was just a month or two ago where he started standing up to the boys without fear, where it had been months since he'd cried, really cried, where Ramsay was still  _his_ Ramsay. But he couldn't stop the tears and his choked-up breaths, he was just too overwhelmed. What were they going to do? Were they going to beat him? ...Rape him? Kill him, even? Would Ramsay start another so-called hunt, this time with the boys involved? Or would he just get bloodied up and left in the bunker again? 

"Forgive me," he wept.

Ramsay was feeling no pity for him, though. He shook his head slow, eyes on his lover's pathetic face. "No... I know what to do with you, my dear, and my forgiveness has no part in it. At least, not yet."

He turned his attentions to the four men who'd been standing there and silently watching. Even Skinner had kept control of himself despite the wound in his leg. Ramsay rolled his eyes at how much blood there was. "You fucking idiot, I'm surprised you're not unconscious yet. Alyn, you take him to the hospital."

"What should we tell them?"

"Lie, obviously. Tell them it was a mugging, or a bar fight. Hell, even a date gone wrong with a druggie hooker, for all I fucking care. Just get out. And you two," He looked at Ben and Damon now. "Help me with him."

Theon's heart began to pound in his chest again and he lunged up the stairs, clumsy and two at a time. The boys were quick, though, and they grabbed him easily, hauling him down the stairs despite his angry, terrified thrashing. 

"NO!" He screamed, both arms being taken ahold of. "Let me- let me go! Let go, where are you taking me?!" 

"Fucking- stop struggling, you cunt!" Damon snarled, cracking him in the forehead with his fist. Theon saw stars for a moment, briefly going slack in the two men's grasp. They led him through the kitchen, and when Ramsay opened the door for them, they carried Theon downstairs to the basement. Theon shook the daze off and started panicking again, kicking and pulling, screaming.

"NO!! NO, NO,  _NO_!!"

Despite his efforts, the two men who held him were far stronger, and unbeknownst to him, they were used to the struggling. Theon was a little more frustrating than most they'd dealt with, but they got him to the bunker easily enough where they assisted in stripping him bare. Then, when it was ready, they took Theon and slammed him up against the saltire prop, pinning him there while Ramsay set to work on fixing all the strap restraints. 

He cried. This was humiliating, being stripped and put on display like that for Ramsay, for his beasts. The ginger felt intimidated enough with his clothes  _on_ , but without them now he felt so goddamn vulnerable and exposed. He pulled and fought at the straps, screaming at the three men and cursing them, voice hoarse and cracking. "I-I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you, I swear, I fucking swear-!"

They all laughed, and Ramsay grinned the widest, shaking his head fondly. "Oh darling, I really don't think you're in any position to be saying things like that."

A wad of spit caught him right between the eyes, and he flinched, the smile instantly vanishing from his face. There was a silent pause, then he slowly wiped at the offending fluid, flicking his hand away. When he opened his eyes again he was met with a smirking Theon, spittle on those smug lips. 

Rage.

Rage burst from his chest and spread through him like wildfire, filling every part of him, and he felt it tensing him up like a coil.

Ben and Damon stared. They could see the fury boiling up inside their leader, and they backed off, not wanting to get caught in any of the crossfire. Ben almost – _almost_ \- pitied Theon. Poor kid had just dug his own grave. 

Ramsay looked back down at his spit-slicked hand, jaw twitching. He spoke low, the edge of his tone razor sharp and menacing, "You've humiliated me tonight, Theon Greyjoy. You've made a fool out of me. I will not forget this. I will not forget what you've done to me." 

Theon still held his smug look, proud of his tiny act of defiance. He licked his lips and said, voice a bit gravelly, "Good. I don't want you to."

The smirk was wiped right off Theon's face with one solid punch. It snapped the boy's head to the right and stars blew up in his vision. The next hit, just above his eye socket made him see only black. He coughed and sputtered, blood spilling from his mouth with a tooth falling and clattering along with it. He groaned in pain, stunned.

Ramsay pulled back, hands clenching into jittery fists at his sides as he breathed hard. The boys were surprised at the level of restraint; another man had spit in Ramsay's face once before, and the Bolton bastard had taken his hunting knife and nearly decapitated him while he was still alive. This, well. This was a very mild reaction. Until they saw Ramsay going for the skinning knife strapped to his hip. 

Damon smirked. He'd never liked that spoiled punk Theon, and he couldn't wait to see him get his punishment.

Alas, poor Damon, it wasn't meant to be; Ramsay turned to him and Ben before gesturing his head towards the exit. "Out. I need a moment of privacy with my...  _beloved_. You can go upstairs and clean up the mess all over the entryway."

They weren't too pleased about that, but they sure as hell weren't going to argue. The two of them trudged out of the room, leaving Ramsay alone with Theon.

The Greyjoy son trembled on the saltire, smirk no longer anywhere in sight. The spot above his eye was already swelling some, and both spots where he'd been struck were beginning to bruise. Blood still dribbled from his mouth, leaking over his quivering lip.

"Rams," He rasped. "Please... you can't do this, this isn't right... I loved you."

Ramsay halted, head tilting. He held the tip of the blade to his chin, pretending to consider. "Hmm... No. No, I can. I can definitely do this. Especially since it's so infuriating that you don't know how to properly use your tenses, Theon. ' _Loved_ '? Really? Come now, you know the proper present tense of that word is ' _love_ '. I knew you were stupid, but not  _that_ stupid, this is basic grammar."

Theon cried out in frustration and flailed against the saltire, rattling it. "Stop that, fucking stop that, I hate that!" He screamed, then whimpered the last part, "Why won't you listen to me...?"

"Because you're not worth listening to when you insist on not behaving, Theon," Ramsay stepped closer, and it was then that Theon noticed the knife the other man was holding was the one he'd gifted him for Christmas. It felt like a kick to his chest and he whined. 

"I-I got that for you..." He softly said, glossy eyes on the knife.

"Hm? Oh, this? Yes, yes, you did, and you'll be happy to know I'm still grateful. I couldn't have asked for a better knife for what I'm going to do, and I thank you for it." Ramsay smiled, but there was no mirth.

Theon shrunk back against the wood and shook his aching head, starting to beg, "Please! Please, no, Ramsay, please don't kill me! Remember- remember what we had? I-I was good to you! I loved- I-I  _love_ you! You don't want to do this, Rams, please! ...Please?"

Ramsay brought the blade up to caress Theon's bruising cheek and the ginger flinched hard underneath it, eyes wide and watching. The blue-eyed man sighed, watching the metal on that quivering skin. "Do you remember the first time I punished you, Theon? Do you remember?"

Theon only shivered.

The other man continued, "Of course you do. No one ever forgets their first... Well, do you remember how I hit you? How I strangled you?"

Theon nodded. He could never forget that. He thought the bruises were never going to fade.

Ramsay leaned in to speak into Theon's ear, lips brushing, his breath causing goosebumps to rise all over that pale, sweaty skin. "You're going to  _long_ for things as simple and boring as hitting and strangling well before I'm through with you tonight. You might even beg for death, if we're being dramatic." 

Theon squeezed his eyes shut tight and broke down, body wracking with sobs. Ramsay groaned softly as heat pooled in his belly at the sounds, and his free hand stroked up Theon's bare side to feel the heaving and shuddering of his body as he cried. He was tempted to fuck him right there on the saltire, but now was not a time for rewards- he didn't want Theon thinking he'd forgiven him just yet.

Ramsay pulled back, eyeing the red-head all over with hunger and curiosity. Theon didn't need to see his ex-lover's growing erection to know there was lust there, too. It made it even worse for him knowing that whatever Ramsay had planned, he wasn't simply going to stop at any point just because the Greyjoy screamed or bled too much. If anything, those factors might actually drive him  _further_. The black-haired man watched as the boy struggled weakly with his restraints, groaning and whining, eyes unable to look at his captor. Ramsay didn't know if it was out of fear or budding respect, but whatever it was he liked it already.

"Ramsay..." That trembling voice cracked. "Ramsay, I just wanna go home..."

"But darling," Ramsay chuckled and shook his head as if Theon was just oh, so silly. "You  _are_ home. Now. Enough whining! What part of you do you think is a good place to start, Theon? Ah, ah-! Don't you dare say 'none'! You'd better choose, because you don't want me to choose for you!"

He sounded so playful and it made Theon's skin crawl. The ginger closed his eyes and hung his head a bit, sniffling. "I don't... I don't know. My arm, I guess? Do I really have a choice?"

"You do, and it's an excellent one. Good boy. Why can't you be this compliant more often? Things would be so much simpler for you if you were," he tutted as he came close again, hands going to Theon's quivering right arm. 

Theon tried to look away, but he couldn't help watching as that terrible blade was lifted and pressed to the smooth, pale skin on the underside of his forearm. He began to shake, eyes wide and jaw working soundlessly as he expected that sharp edge to plunge in and drag through his arm, severing an artery and ending his life. Instead, it sliced a thin, curved, shallow line. There was no pain, not right away, just the shock of what happened before a sting and some blood followed. It felt like a bad papercut until Ramsay slipped the edge of the blade under the line and began to slither the blade down, peeling the section of skin away. 

Theon threw his head back and screamed in pain and terror at what he'd just seen. His thrashing made it worse; the blade jumped and stuttered, raking against the meat underneath here and there. 

" _RAMSAY, STOP, PLEASE_ -!!" 

Ramsay laughed softly and cooed, "Oho, but darling, I only just started! Remember what I said? We still have work to do!"

There was a giddy look on his face as he pulled the sliver of skin free and showed it to a terrified, screaming Theon, wiggling it tauntingly like a treat before a dog before he tossed it aside. He carried on, the skinning knife moving to another area just beside the mark he'd already made. 

"Now hold still and stop that screaming, my love- if I concentrate and do this right it will look very nice."

Theon neither held still nor stopped his screaming, and Ramsay delighted in all of it as he worked.

 

* * *

 

Theon had screamed himself hoarse and cried his eyes dry. He lay slumped against the saltire, and if it weren't for the unrelenting strength of the restraints he'd be in a heap on the floor. The too-bright light of the fluorescent bulbs buzzed and blinked above him as his dull, empty eyes stared off into space, head dropped against his stiff shoulder. 

His head felt like it was in a foggy haze, and his body was a mess of numbness and pain. He'd blacked out a few times, but he'd been wide awake for most of it and knew that Ramsay had flayed parts of his skin, sprained three of his fingers, strangled him until he passed out, bruised a rib or two, and had beaten and cut and bitten him more times than he could count. He remembered the way those big, calloused hands abused him, tortured him, the way they made him cry out and flinch, the way they'd made him hurt worse than he'd ever known. 

He also remembered the way they'd caressed him so gently and lovingly that he'd almost forgotten where he was, and how it was such a contrast from the suffering he'd just endured from them. And, he was ashamed when he remembered the way he had nearly melted and rejoiced when Ramsay's red-smudged lips had brushed the bruises and blood on his cheek to whisper that he'd been such a good boy, and that he was forgiven.

Forgiven from what, though, he still wasn't sure, and he didn't think he ever would be. In his eyes, he had done nothing wrong, and any harm he'd caused had all been out of self-defense. But, he didn't try to argue his case, he was too hurt, exhausted, and frightened. Even if he wanted to speak his throat was too raw from his screams. It pained him to swallow, much less try to start a debate. 

Whether they agreed or not about who was in the wrong and whether or not this was punishment or actually abuse, he was just glad that, whatever and however it was, it was over. At least, the torture was. The pain clearly wasn't, and every movement, no matter how subtle, seemed to awaken some ache and sting somewhere on his body. 

He tried to adjust on the saltire, and as he did so the back of his forearm rubbed along the rough wood against it. Around the middle of his forearm, a set of bell-shaped wounds formed a cruel red and pink bracelet, and the 'jewelry' was still very raw and coated in a thin layer of sticky blood. He hated the ugly thing and he had to look away from it, wishing the pain of that particular wound wasn't there solely so he didn't have to be reminded of its existence. Out of all the cuts, the bruises, the bites,  _everything_ he'd received, to him the worst was that hideous tattoo carved out of his skin. Ramsay had skinned him like an animal and then taunted him with pieces of his own body like it was funny. Which, to Ramsay, it probably was. And of course, of fucking course, he'd used the knife Theon had gifted him to do it. Not Damon's, not some other knife, not even the broken blade from the ruined one.  _His_ knife. That fact hurt far worse than he'd like to admit, and he was damn sure Ramsay knew it.

He tried hard to ignore his skinned arm and focus on something more normal instead, like the bloody gap in his mouth where a tooth used to be.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ramsay came to the bunker, Theon was dead asleep on the saltire. He didn't know how that was possible; the brightly-lit room was freezing cold and the man was stark naked, not to mention the 'bed' he was lying on looked terribly uncomfortable. Aww, the poor baby must have just been that exhausted! Yesterday was a busy day, after all. He did some terrible parkour off the roof, went for a run, joined a hunt, got in a scrap, and then he had to face some punishment for being a very naughty boy. No wonder he was so sleepy.

Amused, he stepped as quietly as his heavy boots would allow and got close enough to Theon to see every detail of the damage he'd caused last night. That beautiful, soft pale skin was peppered in numerous cuts, gashes, and bruises, and there was dried blood painting it all the loveliest shades of red. There were dried tears on his cheeks and chest, and dried sweat coated his body. He was positively fit for a museum.

What really caught Ramsay's attention, though, were the bright pink and red windows glaring down at him from Theon's right forearm. Out of everything he'd done last night, that had been his favorite, and he couldn't wait to see what the resulting scars would look like. He made sure to be careful and precise with his flaying so that the scarring would not only end up permanent but beautiful as well. He wanted to be sure both he and Theon would have a reminder of that first night on his beloved saltire, a reminder of what happens when the pet disobeys and disrespects the master. 

He stepped closer so he could reach out and spider his fingertips up Theon's torso, over his collar and throat, and up to his cheeks. Cupping them, he stroked the marred, sticky, stubble-coated skin, and he leaned into press a kiss to Theon's forehead. His lips lingered there against the salty skin and greasy hair for a moment before he pulled back, eyes bright and smile affectionate. 

"Theon," he said, light and friendly. "Oh, Theon!"

Theon grunted and furrowed his brows, and he looked absolutely groggy as he opened his tired eyes and saw Ramsay in front of him. The ginger blinked a few times, trying to register everything, and when he went to move he jostled his painfully-stiff, numbed shoulders and his sore, chaffed wrists with a moan. Ramsay watched as recognition came over his roommate's face, and the miserable sound that spilled from his mouth was heavenly. Theon didn't cry, though, which was just a little surprising since he'd been such a drama queen these last couple of weeks or so. Instead, he looked up at Ramsay with exhaustion and sorrow as he tried to ask when he'd be going back upstairs, but he couldn't get the words out from his dry, raw throat.

"Wh.. Whn wi..."

Ramsay thought he could hear a 'when' somewhere in that raspy mess and he figured he could pretty much interpret what Theon was trying to say. "'When will I be getting you down from here'? Or maybe, 'when will I let you out of the bunker'?"

A nod into his caressing hands.

"Which one?"

Theon mouthed ' _both_ '.

Ramsay looked him over, thinking. After a moment, he bent down to undo the lengths of rope keeping Theon's legs tied to the lower half, then stood again and undid the leather restraints around his wrists. Theon collapsed off the saltire and landed heavily into Ramsay's arms. His own were so sore and numb he couldn't lift them at the moment, and he just laid there against the bigger man's chest, breathing heavily.

"Better?" Ramsay asked, rubbing circles into Theon's shoulders and upper arms with one hand. "Let's get the blood flowing in these again."

Theon grunted, wincing a little. 

Ramsay knelt with Theon, easing him onto the frigid floor. The ginger gasped at the sudden cold on his bare body, and his skin tightened with goosebumps. "R-Rams..." He managed to rasp out, sprained, tingly fingers, reaching out for the other man's jacket. 

"Ah, yes, how silly of me. Won't you hold on a moment, dear?" Ramsay stood and stepped over Theon, heading out into the basement. He left the bunker door open while he was gone knowing Theon's body was far too sore and exhausted to move very fast. A minute later, he came back down with an old blanket he'd pulled from the closet, and he laid it down flat on a part of the floor. He patted the middle of it and spoke like he was addressing one of the dogs.

"Come! Come here, darling! You can use this."

Theon paid no attention to the condescending tone and gesture, too focused on the blanket. He immediately crawled over to it, holding back grunts and whines of pain. It was a poor source of warmth, too thin and worn out, and he could feel some of the cold from the floor seeping through it. Still, it was far better than nothing, and he curled up on it, huddling into himself. He looked up at Ramsay through his messy bangs and one swollen-over eye, and he hated that he wished the other man would hold him again, if only for the warmth and slight comfort that doing so had admittedly provided.

Ramsay left again, then came back with a single glass of water, and he sat down in front of Theon on the blanket. Theon eyed the glass of water like it was an oasis in a desert, and he licked his dry, cracked lips, throat bobbing. The black-haired male took hold of Theon by the hair with one hand and lifted his head, the other tilted the glass to his lips. He watched, amused, as Theon moaned into the drink, the boy's relieved expression was just too adorable. 

"Remember what I told you about drinking slowly. If you throw up a single drop of water, I'll beat you, alright?"

Theon didn't understand how that punishment was even remotely proportionate to the supposed crime, but then again, these days, he didn't understand anything about Ramsay's thought process and what he did. He did as he was warned, and he drank slow and careful, reveling in the cool liquid as it soothed his parched throat and mouth. Hopefully, when he was done with his water, Ramsay would take him upstairs to bathe and feed him just like last time, and he could spend the rest of the day lying in bed and healing, thinking of another way to get free. Maybe... if he could just locate his cellphone, or sneak onto one of the house phones, he could get a hold of Jon... Yes. Yes, that would be good. He could do that. He'd be patient if he had to, and he'd feign good behavior if it meant his attic and some time alone until someone could come rescue him.

"So, as I'm sure you can tell, that saltire is not actually a Halloween prop."

Theon looked up at him, and despite the pain, despite the suffering he'd endured all night, he still managed a look of 'no shit, Sherlock'.

Ramsay laughed, bright and mirthful. It made the ginger wince. "Well, okay, we  _did_ use it for a prop a time or two, but this is what it's actual use has been for."

Theon paled slightly. The boys had mentioned something last night, and he'd had his suspicions, but to hear it confirmed sent a chill through his bones. The water made it easier to speak, but his voice was still delicate and crackling, "You're... you've done this... be-before...?"

"Oh Theon, don't be so jealous! You know you'll always be my favorite." He petted those sweaty, red curls fondly.

Theon cringed and shrunk down a little against the blankets. He wasn't sure what Ramsay meant. 'Favorite'? Favorite what? Lover? Victim? Both? He felt the fear growing again, as well as a strong sense of urgency. He really, really needed to get out of here... He might even have to find a way to incapacitate or kill Ramsay if he needed to, and that just made things scarier, and as much as he hated to admit it to himself, a small part was actually worried for his ex.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Ramsay petted him while he thought, but he soon spoke up again, "Ramsay... when's...m' bath?'

"Your what? 'Bath'? Pfsh, sweetness, you don't deserve a bath right now, your punishment isn't over yet! I mean, you're starting to  _reek_ , my little 'reeker', but we'll both just have to suffer until I deem you having served your sentence."

Theon looked up at him, not understanding. What was this? He'd said he had forgiven him, and he'd let him down from that... that  _thing_! Didn't that mean he was free from the bunker? That he could get cleaned up and rest? He'd suffered, he'd taken his punishment! He'd been good! He was being good now! He didn't understand and it showed on his face and in his quickened, wheezing breathing.

Ramsay cupped his chin and tilted his head upward, cooing at first, then descending into a cruel, mocking tone, "It's alright, my love. You're a Greyjoy! Isn't your fancy family bloodline said to be forged from molten iron and flowing with the salt of the sea? Or did being with the Starks too long make you soft? What's another night or two in the bunker, eh? That's nothing. Your ancestors spent months trapped in the bowels of cramped ships loaded with cabin fever and sickness, and here you are winging about another day without a bath. That's sad, Theon. I can't believe how spoiled you sound."

The Bolton stood, and Theon used what little strength he had at the moment to shoot a hand out and clutch at Ramsay's ankle. His sprained fingers burned in protest, but he ignored it, growling pathetically up at his captor, "Don't... don't you dare leave me down here again, Ramsay...!"

Ramsay's eyes, wide and staring, flashed with something akin to annoyance and mild anger, and a look of disgust came over his face. He was not at all pleased to see that his Theon wasn't as close to broken as he would've liked. He stomped once, twice, on the flaying wounds on Theon's outstretched arm, and the boy shrieked and pulled back to hug the limb to his chest. He looked down into those watery green eyes and shook his head. "You know, I was going to leave you with an extra glass of water, but I think you can forget about that for tonight. I'll be back tomorrow, and hopefully you'll be in a much friendlier mood,  _Reek_." 

"Theon... Greyjoy," Theon croaked in the smallest bit of defiance he could muster.

Ramsay's smile was wry, his tone even more-so. "Oh yes, yes, " _'Theon_ _Greyjoy_ '. Please, do be sure to tell me,  _Theon_ _Greyjoy_ , if your disappointed ancestors visit you in your dreams tonight and tell you how ashamed they are."

He left Theon there shivering and whimpering on the floor, ignoring the glare those eyes were burning into his back. He shut the lights off and left the young Greyjoy in darkness, and the sound of the bunker door closing seemed to ring especially loud.

It was almost three days before Ramsay came back down.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, guys. <3


	10. Hey, I Don't Think This Guy's a Real Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for... mild dubcon, I think? I'm not sure. Better safe than sorry.

The instant those fluorescent lights had clicked back on after having spent three days of being off, Theon shut his eyes tight and buried his face under the thin blanket. He'd been in darkness the whole time, eyes having gotten used to it, so much so that he was even able to just barely see around him. So, when those lights buzzed back into use, it felt like someone had stuck red hot pokers into his eyes, and he yelped, hiding them immediately as they watered.

He had just woken up, the noise from the metal door's locks having pulled him from his light slumber, and he'd heard Ramsay come down the hallway. Still, he hadn't thought to cover his eyes in time, and now he lay there groaning and wincing under the blanket.

"Did I wake you? Sorry," Ramsay said as he stepped into the room. The man coughed and mumbled something about the smell.

Theon heard him come closer, and he cowered a bit under his shoddy excuse for protection until it was pulled away from him. He shivered and covered his eyes until his hands were pulled away, too. Squinting through watery eyes, he blinked rapidly up at Ramsay, confused. 

What day was it? How long had he been down here? It felt longer than last time... 

Through the gloss over his eyes he could see Ramsay beaming down on him. "Come on, Reek! Time to go, punishment's up!"

It took him a moment to register those words, and when he did he felt only some relief. He was too exhausted and cold to move, and everything hurt. It felt like there may have been a few infections brewing here and there on him, too, and he seemed a bit sickly. Gods, he was so thirsty, too, and he'd passed out a number of times because of it. At this point, he didn't care whether or not he would get out of the bunker, as long as he was able to get some water in him at long last.

"Ha! That's all? No celebration? No joyous tears? I thought you'd be a whole lot happier to be getting out of here. Unless you want to stay...?" He tilted his head, grinning, then frowned when Theon only blinked slowly and coughed, eyes squeezing shut. "Fine then, here, let me say it for you- ' _Oh Ramsay, m_ _y_ _master, my wonderful lord, thank you so much for getting me out of here and for the care you're about to give me! I should be_ _grovel_ _ing_ _at your feet!_ ' See, something like that."

Theon coughed again and groaned. The boy was in no state to answer, let alone do any groveling. His grimy, painted, and marred skin was tinted a pale blue with a deep, flushed pink in some parts. There were dark, ugly bruises everywhere of all shapes, sizes, and colors, as well as cuts both deep and shallow, and raw, open wounds, some of them festering, were visible. He stunk of blood, piss, sweat, and vomit, just as he had before, only worse, and now there was the added addition of sickness and infection creeping along with it. He couldn't speak, and his gaze was one of a thousand yards, almost zombified. Any movement was slow and minimal, the exception being his excessive shivering.

Ramsay sighed, finally wrapping the old blanket around Theon and bracing himself as he lifted him bridal-style into his arms. Theon's head lolled back like a ragdoll's, and Ramsay briefly considered for a moment that something might actually be wrong with him. 

Dammit. 

No matter, he thought. This was easily taken care of. He'd call the Bolton's private physician, Dr. Wolkan, if he needed to, and get a prescription for antibiotics written up. 

Theon felt himself being hauled around, and though he could see, he kept his eyes closed to try and stave off as much nausea and dizziness as he could. His stomach still lurched, and burning bile rose in his throat. He coughed again and uttered something rasped and unintelligible.

The two of them followed along the same routine as they had the previous time they'd done all this, only now Theon was a lot less cooperative. It wasn't his fault, though, and for once Ramsay was fairly forgiving. The boy clearly had a fever from one or all of the infections on his body, and adding to that, he was very dehydrated. Cold, too, but Ramsay wasn't sure whether or not he actually had hypothermia. 

The Bolton son cursed his luck. He might have to end up calling Dr. Wolkan over here.

For now, though, he helped Theon into the tub and kept his head propped up so he wouldn't drown, then went to go get him some water and warm tea. He was a bit frustrated as he poured a little honey into the latter drink; he didn't want to have to babysit Theon, he wanted the boy to be up and ready to go when he retrieved him from the bunker, but instead he got careless and possibly almost killed the idiot. 

Well, his lover was no fun and no use to him dead, so despite his impatience he'd have to do something about it and get him fixed up. It was his fault anyway, he was surprisingly willing to admit. He should have known Theon wasn't nearly strong enough to take on a punishment like that, not yet. But he would be.

_Patience, Ramsay, you really need to remember patience, just like dear_ _ol_ _' dad always says._

He brought the drinks up and found Theon passed out in the tub, his head tilted back over the lip of it while the rest of his body sat slumped in the water. After checking the ginger's pulse, he went to go gather a med-kit, a few vitamins and pills, and some fresh clothes. 

Ramsay spent the next couple of hours taking care of his Theon. He washed all traces of filth off his beautiful –now gorgeous, in his opinion- body, and he washed his hair, then cleaned his wounds as carefully and thoroughly as possible. 

He'd also called Dr. Wolkan and, without mentioning what had happened, spoke with the man about Theon's symptoms. He was told what to do and that he'd have to keep an eye on him, and that he'd also have to go into town and pick up some antibiotics, as well as call the doctor if any of those symptoms worsened. 

Ramsay was polite about it, but felt the call was a waste of his time, thinking that he had already thought of that stuff himself. 

Still, it never hurt to have a second opinion, and he felt a little better knowing that Theon would be just fine after a few days, and hopefully the Greyjoy wouldn't disappoint him.

He'd sanitized and bandaged as many of Theon's wounds as he thought was necessary, taking particularly special care of the flayed bracelet on Theon's arm to ensure that it would heal and scar properly. 

Next, he dressed him in loose, comfortable clothes, but nothing excessively warm, the bedsheets would provide plenty of heat. He then continued the hydration process with more cool water and warm honey tea, and he made sure to add some of those pills, vitamins, and light broth to Theon's belly as well. 

Finally, after Theon was cleaned, watered, and gently fed, he'd taken the boy upstairs and put him to bed in his attic room. Theon said nothing, barely awake, but he knew the ginger was grateful, and he was sure that if he could, he'd be saying ' _thank you, Ramsay_ ', over and over again. 

He tucked his little red-head in all nice and comfortable. Since Theon's forehead was burning up, he left a cool, wet rag on it, and then brought up some extra pills, water, and tea to leave on the nightstand.

After all that, he stood there watching his incapacitated pet for a long moment, content with himself. This had all been a bit of a pain in the ass, but it was worth it knowing how appreciative Theon would be once he started feeling better. Theon would be grateful to his kind, attentive doctor for saving his life and making him stronger than ever, he was sure. 

And, with any luck, the punishment itself would have caused a fairly big impact on the sickly brat, and maybe he'd be far better behaved in the coming weeks because of it. 

He'd love to be able to start properly training him soon.

Ramsay headed back downstairs, leaving the attic door open just in case Theon woke up needing anything. He prided himself on being the kind, attentive doctor, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon recovered over the next week and a half or so, much quicker and stronger about it than Ramsay had given him credit for. He didn't start talking again until about four days in, and it took another day or two before the croaking and rasping finally stopped and his voice sounded fairly normal again. He did manage to utter a few slightly-shame-filled thank-you's to Ramsay throughout, but none of the desperate worshipping and dick-sucking like the other man had probably been hoping for –and expecting. Theon still had his pride, after all.

Ramsay had been fairly kind to him during this time of recovery, not to mention, patient, too. It was unsettling. The first couple of days, at least, the ones where he was decently-conscious, he was expecting the man to blow up on him at any moment, or do something weird or aggressive, or invasive. Surprisingly, Ramsay was only helpful, and he remained that way up until the last time Theon had seen him today. Still, as paranoid as the behavior was making him, it was much better than gaining any more wounds or putting up with condescending tones or insults.

He was glad those damn 'windows' to his muscles were covered up, too. They stung, but they didn't hurt as bad now, and the bandage kept them hidden, so the terrible wound was off his mind most of the time and for that he was genuinely grateful. He didn't tell that to Ramsay, though, lest the man decide the bandage should suddenly come off.

There was one thing that was really starting to grate on him, though, and it was every time Ramsay called him 'Reek' rather than 'Theon'. It didn't happen too often, but when it did it was subtle and always with a hint of amusement to it. It always seemed like he was waiting for a reaction from it, too, but Theon hadn't given him the satisfaction of having one. Well, not yet. He really wasn't fond of being reminded of the fact that he'd been abused and locked down in the bunker so long that he came out filthy and stinking like an animal.

Theon was just about to get up to piss when Ramsay came strolling into the room. His captor sprawled on the bed and draped himself across Theon's sore legs, prompting a tired grunt. "Hi, Ramsay."

"Hello, Reek! I missed you. It's very quiet downstairs without you."

_Fucking_ - "I just saw you two hours ago, and please, stop calling me 'Reek'. My name is Theon, you know that."

"I think it's cute. It fits you."

"I think it's degrading."

A muscle in Ramsay's jaw twitched. "It fits you."

Theon wasn't in the mood to argue, and he sure as hell wasn't in the mood to set his touchy ex off. He sighed and gingerly rubbed his bruised face.

Taking the silence as compliance, Ramsay looked up at the ceiling and hummed softly, fingers drumming against his stomach. "You think you're well enough to join me for dinner tonight, pet?"

Theon didn't really want to spend any more time with Ramsay than he had to, but the thought of food more substantial than crackers and broth sounded too good to pass up. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

Ramsay smiled brightly, loudly clasping his hands together. "Wonderful! Maybe I'll grill us some steaks or something, or-"

"Er, as damn good as that sounds, Rams, I can't have it. My jaw's still kinda sensitive, and that spot where you... knocked my tooth out is a bit fucked. Unless you blended it, I won't be able to eat anything like that."

"I  _could_ -"

"Please don't."

Ramsay rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "Alright, fine, princess! I'll, I don't know, maybe make you some tomato soup and a grilled cheese. Is that soft enough?"

Theon nodded, belly rumbling at the thought of the food mentioned. "Yeah, thank you, Rams." He absently reached out and ran his fingers through the mop of thick, black hair resting against in his lap, and for the briefest of moments it felt just like it had a few months ago when they were... 'them'. The ginger petted the other man's hair for a full few seconds before realizing what he was doing, and he awkwardly stopped and pulled his hand away, seeing that even Ramsay looked a little surprised by the gesture. Blushing some, Theon glanced away and cleared his throat, bringing their attention elsewhere. "Hey, um. About my phone-?"

"Already taken care of, pet. I've sent a few responses here and there when necessary so as not to arouse suspicion. No worries, no one will bother us." Ramsay said this as he inspected his nails, cool as a cucumber, acting as if doing what he said he did was perfectly fine and not at all hugely invasive and creepy.

Theon bristled, anger spilling over his features as his voice raised. "Wait- you did  _what_?? What the hell did you say to everybody? ' _Hey, no need to worry, everyone, I'm A-OK! I'm just trapped in a crazy man's torture dungeon, no need to come and_ _find_ _me or my body!_ '!" 

Ramsay didn't look so cool now, instantly losing that casual air. He looked up at Theon, mouth a straight line. "Enough. You keep up that tone and there won't be a body  _to_ find, Reek."

The ginger, still angry and feeling a bit violated, did manage to shut up for a few minutes at the threat. He fidgeted with the blanket, eyes downcast, then asked, "What  _did_ you say?"

"I simply said that you were taking a little time off work, and that you and I were going to spend a few days out at one of my father's vacation cabins up in the mountains. Also mentioned something about shit reception. That's all. Robb seemed a little doubtful, but I figure that's normal because the prat doesn't like me."

_And he's right not to._  "Oh. Okay. Thanks, I guess?" Theon frowned down at the thread he had between his fingers. Gods, what didn't this bastard have covered? He sarcastically tacked on, "'Wouldn't want to give them any reason to worry."

Ramsay's smile was tight, his tone even more-so. "No. We wouldn't." 

"...Ramsay, can I please use my phone?"

Those blue eyes squinted. "Why?"

"I want to call Arya, check up on Sunny and see how she's doing. I miss her." It was true, he really did miss his little dog, and he genuinely wanted to check in and make sure she was still safe. "I won't... I won't try anything stupid, I promise. You can even listen in if you want, I don't care." Well, he  _did_ care, but right now that wasn't as important as the welfare of his dog and the ability to use his own damn phone.

 The dark-haired man mulled it over in his head for a second or two, then shrugged and nodded. "Alright. I suppose you've earned it."

Theon watched him get up and head downstairs, and after a minute the other man came back up with his phone. He took it and smiled tiredly down at the lock-screen's wallpaper picture of a goofy-looking Sunny, but that smile was replaced by an ache in his chest when he saw the home-screen's own picture of him and Ramsay together from last November. In the picture, they had been lying in the bed of Ramsay's truck, cuddling together after they'd spent the evening driving around the hills and fields outside of town, and the rays of the setting sun had lit them up beautifully. They looked so normal, so happy and affectionate. He swallowed the lump in his throat and went to his contact list, finding Arya's name and dialing her number.

As he waited for her to pick up, he looked at Ramsay and mouthed a 'thank you' at him. He meant it.

 

* * *

 

 

Another week had gone by and the two had lived relatively normally. If you could call their situation anything close to normal, that is. There had been a few close calls with Ramsay's temper, the worst of which involved him getting pushed down the stairs after he got snippy with Ramsay calling him 'Reek' again. Thankfully, the fall hadn't been too bad, just a few bruises, and more of an agitator for his previous wounds. Most of the time, there was just tension and irritation on his end, while Ramsay still smiled and cooed and called him by his old pet names as he followed him around constantly. 

He'd also found out that he'd been fired from work, so that would no longer be a problem for him. That didn't break his heart, exactly, but he had been worried about the rent situation, and when he'd asked Ramsay about it his question was brushed off and he was told not to worry about it. He did stop his worrying, because maybe if Roose noticed something was screwy with the rent, he'd come over to investigate and see what was going on at this hell house.

He'd be lying if he said there were no silver-linings, though. His wounds were closed and scabbing up and scarring over, some even fading away, and his sprains had recovered. His infections also seemed to be going away thanks to the antibiotics and daily care he and Ramsay had been applying to them, so he was no longer sick, either. His jaw, while still a little sore from his missing tooth, seemed to be healing well, and he was getting back to eating more than just liquids and soft foods. Good. He was glad for all that, he hated feeling like he was living a hospice type of life, not to mention Dr. Bolton didn't exactly have the most comforting bedside manner.

But, Theon's true moments of solace, at least, the ones that didn't involve sleep, were all the times he was allowed to call or text his friends and family. He was supervised, of course, but at least he was still able to hear Yara and Robb's voice fairly frequently, as well as Sunny's yipping and panting and sniffing over the phone. Those little things made him happy despite everything, and he was always appreciative of Ramsay for letting him have at least this, even if it wasn't exactly as private as he'd like it to be. He was also allowed to spend time with the girls again, and while they still weren't his, and they weren't Sunny, either, it was meant more than anything to be cuddling and playing with them and seeing the genuine love and care for him in their big, brown eyes.

He wasn't exactly content with his life right now, but he'd take this awkward tension and forced politeness over blood and pain and humiliation any day of the week. The phone calls and the girls kept him sane through the days, and right now that was good enough until he could get his ass out of there. 

That morning, he came down to find Ramsay seated in his old leather recliner in the living room. There was a bottle of something in his lap, but the ginger couldn't quite make out what it was, and he carried on disinterestedly into the kitchen until the other man called out to him. 

"Theon."

The use of his actual name instead of 'Reek' made him turn his head. Good, maybe Ramsay was finally tiring of that stupid joke... "Yes, Rams? You need something?"

"Just you. Come here."

He felt a hint of discomfort but went into the living room anyway. "Yes?"

Ramsay gestured to the spot on the floor between his bare feet. "Sit. Get comfortable."

_Hard to get comfortable on the floor..._  He went to the couch and grabbed a pillow, then set it down and sat on it in the spot Ramsay meant for him. The older man murmured his thanks, then requested that he take his shirt and sweater off. Theon hesitated, but did so anyway. He wasn't thrilled about leaving his bare back wide open and vulnerable for Ramsay to do...  _whatever_ with, but he sat there still and quiet and behaved, body tense all over. 

"No worries, pet, you can relax, I have no knives on me," The Bolton gave a soft chortle behind him and passed the bottle over his shoulder. Theon took it and read the label, seeing that the mystery liquid was massage oil. ...Was this a joke? He was about to find out, and he handed the bottle back to Ramsay.

"What are you doing this for?" He asked, unable to resist a little suspicion.

"Because I want to," Ramsay answered, uncapping the bottle and pouring some oil into his hand. "I miss having intimate physical contact with you." 

Theon felt a small pang of anger at that, thinking it wasn't fair for Ramsay to feel that way as  _he_ was the reason for them no longer having anything intimate about their relationship. He tilted his head forward as those big hands settled on his shoulders, and he closed his eyes.

"Me, too, Rams."

Ramsay's hands were firm and warm, and it seemed like they knew exactly where to rub and squeeze, and they worked to loosen every knot and bit of tension they could find. Theon was positively melting there on the floor, groaning and shuddering as his captor took care of him. Honestly, it was quite a relief, and one he didn't know he'd needed so badly. Much to his slight dismay, he found himself feeling grateful to that creep again.

The two of them sat there a long while, and soon the rest of the massaging had them moved to the floor so Ramsay could get at Theon's mid and lower back areas. After a bit, Theon had even let Ramsay tug his sweat pants down to his knees so he could get at the muscles of his ass and thighs. The ginger was reluctant until those talented hands had him melting into the floor all over again, folded arms muffling his contented groans. 

He was a little surprised when a thick, oiled finger had slipped between his ass cheeks and brushed itself against his hole. He immediately pushed up off the floor some and twisted to reach back to set a hand on Ramsay's arm. "H-hey... no, don't-don't do that..."

Ramsay quirked a brow and snorted. "Really?  _Theon_ _Greyjoy_ doesn't want anything sexual?" 

Theon reddened a little and nodded, eyes looking elsewhere. "Yeah, I know, shocker to me, too. Look, 'm sorry, s'just, uh. After everything, I'm not really in the mood for any of that."

"Not even just a little bit?" Ramsay's fingertip circled and pressed just a bit, anyway. 

Theon bit his lip and tried to inch his hips away but that hand still followed, even when he rolled onto his back. "Rams, c'mon-"

"Please?" Ramsay asked, hand now between his captive's thighs, fingers teasing and brushing while his other arm pinned the boy down a bit. He nudged both of Theon's lamely-protesting hands aside and ducked his head to press a kiss on a bruise resting on the ginger's collar bone, and then another on his throat and jaw. 

The ginger melted at the touch and the kisses, his pale lashes fluttering closed as his thighs opened more. His cock was beginning to stir, and he felt a mix of lust and shame in his belly. When he went to tell Ramsay to stop again, the other man's mouth pressed against his own and pulled him into a slow, deep kiss that made him feel light-headed, and a single finger pushed inside his hole, stretching him. His yelp was muffled, and he squirmed a little there on the floor until that long finger found his prostate and immediately began to rub against it, quickly distracting the boy from any of the pain and discomfort the sudden intrusion might have caused. Theon bucked, cock hardening more and bobbing at his stomach.

"Mmh-Rams-!"

Ramsay growled low, and he worked a second finger in there, moving it up to drum against Theon's spot. He felt Theon quiver hard against him, felt those thighs shake a little, and soon there were hands beginning to claw at his back. He arched up into the slight pain. 

The smaller man gasped softly and began to ride Ramsay's fingers, no longer fighting the touches but rather encouraging them, and for that brief series of minutes where he was being pleasured on the floor like that, his lust-hazy mind let him temporarily forget where he was and all that had happened just days before. No, down here on the floor it was just his quiet, muffled panting and moaning while those thick, clever fingers worked him deep with their thrusts.

He dropped his head back to the rug and arched a little under Ramsay, eyes closed and cheeks flushed with his mouth slightly agape as he climaxed with a pretty mewl of the other man's name. A quiver ran all through his thighs again, and he came, cum painting his pale belly. Ramsay pressed one last set of kisses to his cheeks, nose, and forehead, and then those fingers were slipping free. 

When Theon was empty and the afterglow began to fade, the current situation finally clicked back into place in his memory and he sat up, looking guilty. 

"Fuck," he whispered, looking down at his cum-spattered stomach. "Ramsay, we shouldn't have done this. Dammit, we- fucking stupid-."

Ramsay watched Theon fret as the ginger got up and adjusted his pants before he gathered his clothes and headed upstairs. When Theon was gone, he remained there on the floor, sighing, eyes closing as he mumbled, "I wasn't lying when I said I missed you. You shouldn't be so tempting, pet."

 

 


	11. Wretch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for rape/non-con, humiliation, and general awkward, uncomfortable-ness.

Theon was seated on the floor at Ramsay's side. They were in the living room, and of course he was stuck sitting on the rug like the family pet while his captor and the boys all sat comfortably in their chairs like regular people. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and it wasn't at all helped by the constant jibes he'd been receiving from the boys. He'd also been used as their personal servant tonight, constantly getting told to retrieve drinks and snacks for them from the kitchen. 

All this just to be able to go for a walk tomorrow.

As he got up to get another cold beer for Alyn, he wondered if all this irritation and indignity was worth being able to get outside for more than five minutes. He opened the fridge and closed his eyes, reminding himself of the fresh air, the scent of the pines and clean snow, the happy sounds the dogs would make as they ran around and played... and maybe, if he was well-behaved enough, he'd even get to walk so far into the woods that he'd be able to visit the little stream with the huge, cozy moss bed beside it. In the Fall, he would walk out to that little forest hide-away and take naps with the girls on the moss while sunlight streamed in on him through the pines. He hadn't been back there since the first snowfall, and he missed it dearly. The thought of going there tomorrow gave him the courage and patience he needed to grab the beer in front of him and head back out to the living room.

Alyn took the can without thanks as he listened to some story Skinner was rambling on about. 

Theon was a little surprised the latter man hadn't mentioned anything to him about the stabbing from almost two weeks ago. He'd gotten some scowls and hard glares, as well as the usual teasing about unrelating things, but nothing about what had actually happened. He seriously doubted it was a case of 'let bygones be bygones' and more of a case of 'Ramsay warned him not to bring the subject up or there would be consequences'.

He wasn't sure why, though, as it seemed like something Ramsay would take delight in hearing Theon getting repeatedly harassed about. Confusion aside, he was just glad that it wasn't being brought up and that, for the most part, Skinner had actually left him well enough alone. 

It grew much later in the evening, and around 2:15 am, Theon was slumped over and resting his head against the arm of Ramsay's recliner, blinking slowly and going in and out of consciousness. He didn't know how these wackjobs stayed up so late and so often, and, at least in Ramsay's case, still managed to get up at a fairly decent time without making themselves sick, especially with all the booze they always consumed during those times.

He felt Ramsay's hand start to pet at his hair, but he was too exhausted to protest it. Besides, if he was being honest with himself, the gesture did feel kind of nice, and it was helping to lull him into sleep.

An empty beer can to his face woke him up about a minute later, and the subsequent burst of laughter startled him further awake. He grunted and blinked his bleary eyes back into focus and groaned in annoyance before laying his head back down.  _Assholes..._

"Reek." 

The crude nickname made him open his eyes again and he sighed. After four days since the last time he'd been called that, four days since Ramsay had... touched him, he thought –hoped- the damn name was gone for good. It had started up all over again once the boys came over earlier this evening, and since then that'd been the only thing anyone had called him.

He lifted his head and propped his chin onto the arm of the seat, looking up at Ramsay with sleepy eyes. "Yes, Rams?"

Ramsay petted him again as he spoke, fingers brushing those red bangs out his captive's face. "I have a present for you. Will you stand up, please?"

Theon frowned, brows furrowing. The boy was not even close to being excited about that; Ramsay could mean anything by 'present', and he didn't really want to find out what it was, good or bad. Unless, you know, the good was ' _hey, you've been granted your freedom, no strings attached!_ '. But he wasn't going to be holding his breath for that at all. He got up and went to stand before Ramsay, waiting, expecting a kick to the balls or another beer can to the face, or maybe some trash that he was going to be told to throw out.

Ramsay rose from his chair and leaned in close, murmuring into Theon's ear, "Eyes closed, darling."

He did as he was told, discomfort picking away at him. He heard Ramsay walk off and disappear up the stairs, and while he stood there he waited for the boys to come and pester him at any moment. Surprisingly, they didn't. They just sat there quietly drinking until their leader came back down.

"Still got your eyes closed? Good, good boy. Head up, just like that- ah. Hold still."

Theon swallowed, hands fidgeting at his sides, but he did as he was told. Eyes still closed, he tilted his head up and felt something slightly-heavy being wrapped around his neck. His heart began to pound and his breathing quickened nervously, but he kept still and decided to give Ramsay the benefit of the doubt. Whatever was around his throat wasn't exactly loose, but he wasn't really choking, either, and it stayed in position wrapped around the middle of his neck after it was fastened.  _What the hell_ _..._ _?_

 Ramsay pulled his hands away and made a pleased, low humming sound. "Okay, open your eyes."

When he did, he was face-to-face with a small, hand-held mirror that revealed that the 'present' around his neck was one of the girls' old collars, sans tags. Rather than fine jewels or expensive metals, he was gifted with worn, dirty leather and cold, cheap chrome. He looked like a dog, and he seemed to be the only one who wasn't amused by that. As the boys snickered and murmured crude comments, he stared at his reflection, cheeks flushing with anger and embarrassment, and when he looked up from it he saw Ramsay smiling brightly back at him, excited.

"It looks good on you! I must admit, it's doing wonders for my arousal right now. Do you like it? I know it's nothing fancy, it's just to try it out and get you used to the feeling until I get you a nicer one."

 "...You're fucking kidding me."

"Not at all! Here, why don't you show it off to the boys, eh? Let 'em see how lovely you are," He set his hands upon Theon's shoulders and nudged the smaller man around to face the rest of the room where he was met with the grinning faces of four very amused and drunk men. He ignored their chortling as he whirled back around on Ramsay, fists trembling at his sides and his face a mask of humiliation and rage.

"You can't possible have thought that I would like this fucking thing," He hissed.

Ramsay pouted. "Don't be ungrateful, Theon! It's a gift! One I  _know_ you'll come to love."

"Well, sorry, but I don't want it. You can have it back." His hands went to the buckle and worked it loose, and he angrily tossed the dog collar to the floor, right at Ramsay's feet. He didn't care if Ramsay struck or yelled at him after this, he simply wasn't going to wear a damn collar, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be wearing one in front of those cunts laughing behind him. Some cutesy, girly choker or something, maybe, but not a dog collar. 

Theon still had his pride, after all, what little of it remained. He didn't want to lose it to some shitty joke at his expense. 

Ramsay's bright, lusty expression vanished and his eyes grew cold and hard. His jaw was set, and his tone was low and dangerous as he said through grit teeth, "You dishonor me, Theon. You've humiliated me  _again_ , and with no sign of shame for yourself for what you've done."

Theon's defiant stare immediately fell into meekness, and he looked down at the floor, shoulders tightening and body huddling as he hugged himself protectively. Any of the attitude he'd had while he was standing up for himself was quickly replaced with submissiveness. His voice was timid, and he wasn't even sure if he'd actually spoken because of how soft it sounded, "Well.. Well, yeah, but it's degrading, and I-"

"You no longer have a say in what is degrading or not around here,  _Reek_. You are ungrateful. You are a spoiled brat who couldn't give me one little thing, couldn't let me have a nice moment with you because of your weak pride. You made me look stupid and yourself poorly-disciplined in front of my friends." 

"I… but I thought it was a joke...? Look, I'll-I'll put it back on-" he bent to pick up the collar but Ramsay's hand on his shoulder halted him. The lack of force and grip in that contact scared him more than it would if any of that were there, and Ramsay's eerie, tight calmness made him just as nervous as the violent fury did. His heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest.

When Ramsay spoke again, his dangerous timbre had suddenly become flat and soft, almost resigned, as if he were a parent dealing with some exhausting, troublesome child. "Leave it. You will go upstairs to your room and not come out for the rest of the night. If I see you wandering around, you'll regret it. Go." 

_What? Just like that?_

He stood, still submissive in his stance as he glanced up at Ramsay. The black-haired man didn't meet his eyes as he sat back down, his gaze drifting off at the opposite wall. He ignored Theon, and he ignored his boys as they sat sharing awkward glances around the room. Theon had been expecting an uppercut, a pull of his hair, a hard shove, even a strangling with the collar or getting hauled back down to the bunker. Nothing like that happened, just Ramsay sitting there, calm but clearly reigning in his fierce anger. It unsettled him much more than he was willing to deal with down here, so he gave a stiff nod and left the living room, heading up the stairs to his attic.

Closing the door behind himself, he went to the bed and sat, hands in his lap as he watched the door like he was paranoid. 

He honestly wasn't sorry for the way he'd acted, he didn't feel that he needed to be. Despite all he'd been through, he was still a man, not some animal, and no matter what Ramsay did to him he'd never be beneath those monsters down there. Ramsay had scared him just now, sure, but the guy wasn't going to intimidate him into feeling sorry for having stood up for himself and his pride. 

Besides, if Ramsay had just come up to him and mentioned this beforehand, or even presented the gift just between the two of them, maybe he would have been better prepared for the collar, would have been able to handle the situation with much more patience and even a little forced respect. But no, instead he was caught off-guard, and his reaction and his moods were honest, genuine.

He may have humiliated Ramsay in front of his friends, and he may have made himself look like a complete asshole, but he didn't regret any of it, not for a moment. Despite his fears, despite the fact that he kept watching the door for a long time after he came in, he was proud that he still had enough dignity and boldness to tell Ramsay off and stand up for himself. No beatings, no saltire, no mean nicknames, and no stupid dog collars were going to take that away from him. 

The confidence his previous actions were giving him finally allowed him to look away from the door and get ready for bed. As he laid himself down under the sheets, the noise downstairs seemed to pick up in volume again, and he even heard Ramsay's laugh a time or two before he drifted off.

That didn't settle any of his unease, though, and he fell into a restless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Things had been awkward around the house for the next two days. Ramsay had been strangely respectful to Theon's space, and he'd pretty much left him alone or ignored him, but when they did speak it was through curt dialogue and uncomfortable glances.

 At least, for Theon they were uncomfortable. He wasn't really sure how Ramsay was feeling through all this. Whenever he was around, the Bolton came off exactly as he did the other night when he'd sent the ginger off to bed, voice eerily calm and actions reserved. It was like living with some clichéd movie villain and he hated it. He also hated that he was actually missing that obnoxious smile and cheery tone, both of which normally drove him up the wall and made his skin crawl.

_May the Drowned God have mercy on the man that misses a manic Ramsay Bolton over a calm, strangely-absent one_ _..._

He'd been home alone most of the afternoon, not sure where Ramsay went, but he took it upon himself to go downstairs to the living room and finally watch some tv. He hadn't been able to do that during these last couple of weeks; it had either been a part of his overall punishment, or, when he wasn't in trouble, he was feeling too uncomfortable about coming down and possibly getting stuck spending time with Ramsay, or his friends if they were around. So, after feeding the girls and giving them some hugs and kisses, he came in and flopped down on the couch. 

Ramsay came in sometime later, a few shopping bags in his hand. Theon sat up, probably looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, and Ramsay's quirked brow confirmed that. "Uh, hi, Rams."

His captor closed the door, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know, you don't have to sneak down here to watch television. You can come down and watch it any time you please, you can even play your video games if you feel like it. I don't mind."

"Oh. Thanks, man." He relaxed a little into the couch cushions and turned his attentions back to the tv screen, absently watching Ramsay from the corner of his eye to make sure the other guy wasn't going to come over and sit with him. 

Ramsay shuffled around in the entryway a bit, stomping the snow off his boots and getting his jacket off, and when he was done he headed upstairs with his bags instead of coming over to the living room. 

Theon's brows furrowed when he thought he heard the muffled sounds of Ramsay walking higher up, like he was heading towards  _his_ room. He got up from the couch and went for the stairs, sighing, wondering what the other man would be doing up there. 

"Better not be going through my stuff again," He grumbled.

When he got to the attic, the door was opened and Ramsay was standing by the bed with his back to him, digging around in the bags he'd brought up. The black-haired man didn't look up, just continued pulling things out. "Oh good, you're here already. Close the door behind you, darling."

"No one here but us," Theon said, not getting the request for privacy. At least, he hoped it was a request for privacy, not some half-assed way to keep him locked in. He wondered what was in those bags as he shut the door, but when he came over to see Ramsay held a hand out to stop him.

"Patience, lovely. Can you please strip for me?" 

Theon barked a laugh.

Ramsay turned to him, brows raised. "You think I'm joking?"

"Well... well, yeah, dude, it's... it's inappropriate. We're no longer, y'know, dating or anything. And what happened the other day, that won't happen again, alright? Just so we're clear. So, what you're asking, I-"

Well, I'm not asking now. I'm telling you. Strip." Ramsay's tone had a razor's edge to it, low and final and leaving no room for argument.

Theon, not wanting to test Ramsay's patience, stepped aside and did as he was told. When he was bare, his hands moved up to poorly cover his chest and genitals, cheeks red and eyes down on the floor. He felt shy despite having been nude in front of Ramsay plenty of times in the past, but this time around it felt different, like he was standing in front of a stranger. 

Well, all things considered, he kind of was.

"'K, Rams. Now, uh, now what?" 

Ramsay moved away from the bed and showed the items he'd neatly laid out on the top cover. There was a cheap eye make-up kit, a tube of garish red lipstick, a black and grey under-bust corset with matching panties and garter belt, some black stockings, and a plain little pair of black flats. When Theon looked at him again, Ramsay was smiling, eyes dancing with amusement. "Dress-up!"

Theon frowned, stomach doing a flip as he looked over the items again. "You... want me to wear that stuff?"

Ramsay nodded, a hint of giddy excitement in his tone, "Oh, yes. Put the pretty outfit on first, then we'll do your make-up!"

The ginger bit his lip, looking down at his feet. Those clothes, maybe even the make-up, would look nice on someone else, most anyone else, but not him. And, even though it was just the two of them here, he was feeling terribly unsure. Was this some other fetish thing of Ramsay's that he was just now finding out about? Or what? Maybe... maybe if this had happened when they were still in a relationship and still had trust and love, he'd be more confident about throwing that stuff on, but now he only felt shame and insecurity seeping in. "Rams, I don't really wanna do this..."

The Bolton son stepped close and leaned in some so that his face was close with Theon's. The smile was still there, and those eyes were still wide and bright, but there was no amusement in them anymore. "What you want doesn't really factor into this, dearest. You may not  _want_ to do this, but you  _will_ do this. Do you understand me, or shall I make it clearer for you?"

Theon's lip quivered as he tried to think of something to say, but his throat was too dry and his mind rang with a dull buzz. He looked back down at the items on the bed and swallowed, feeling Ramsay's exhale gently gust against his collarbone. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and a number of discomforting feelings clawed at his insides.

"...okay..."

"Good! Let me know if you need my help," Ramsay said, sitting on the bed, careful not to mess anything up. He got comfortable against the pillows and crossed his arms, watching.

Theon gathered up some of the lingerie, the feeling of those blue eyes on him making his skin crawl. He held onto the panties and closed his eyes, sighing, and then he began to get dressed. It was a slow process as he wasn't quite sure how to properly apply and adjust the clothing, and the strange, foreign way the pieces felt on his body sure as hell didn't help things. Finally, he managed to get the damn corset fitted properly, though it still wasn't very comfortable, and he stepped into the little flats. Swallowing thickly, he looked up and saw Ramsay still there on the bed, watching him very intently, noticeably harder in his jeans and breathing a bit faster. 

"What now?" He asked.

"Make-up, now, darling."

"I don't... I don't know how to do any of that..."

The raven-haired man snorted. "This is coming from the boy who did such an excellent zombie costume last Halloween? He doesn't know how to do make-up?"

Theon fidgeted and rolled his eyes in frustration, voice sounding a little thick and tight. "That was entirely different, Rams, you know that. A-and it wasn't even  _that_ good, anyway..."

Ramsay rolled his own eyes and got up, grabbing the kit and the lipstick. The two of them headed over to the far end of Theon's attic room where there were two mirrors, a full-length and one atop the vanity. The furniture was old and had been stored up in the attic for a long time, but Theon, in all his previous vainness, had been more than happy to keep them. 

Good, because he wanted Theon to see himself.

Theon, though, didn't look in the vanity mirror as he sat down, eyes instead focusing on the jittery hands in his lap. He could see Ramsay shuffling around, gathering a chair to sit in across from him. A finger hooked under his chin and tilted his head up, and he looked into Ramsay's eyes. There was... something strange in them, something that almost looked like fondness or warmth, but, like most times, he couldn't read those eyes. Whatever it was in them, it didn't comfort him. 

"You're being a very good boy right now, Theon," Ramsay purred, the pad of his thumb brushing along Theon's pink and pouting bottom lip. When he spoke again, his voice was a soft murmur, "My little Reek..."

He closed his eyes, a weak whimper slipping from his throat.  _I'm not Reek... I'm Theon... Please, call me Theon..._

"Open your eyes again, dearest, we need to get that make-up on. Ah, there you go, good," Ramsay opened the kit, revealing a liner pen, some mascara, and dark shades of eyeshadow. He took the applicator and dabbed it in the dark grey, then began to work, humming softly to himself as he did so. 

Theon sat quietly and without any fight, and he was ashamed to even acknowledge it, but the gentle, warm contact to his face had him reveling at the soft attention. It felt like it had been so, so long... 

Some days, he couldn't remember the time before Ramsay had started being... whatever it was he had become.  _Or had maybe always been._  Some days, all he could recall was the violence and betrayal between them. Now, though... now, he was reminded of those times before, when Ramsay would caress his skin, pet his hair, hold him close and tell him how much he loved him.

His throat felt tight as his lip quivered and his eyes stung with hot tears, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried his best to choke down a sob that wanted come out. He hated how these thoughts seemed to be coming up so often lately, he hated how much he'd been longing for the old Ramsay, and no matter how many times he told himself that it was useless and would only hinder him, he just couldn't stop. He hated that he loved every touch that wasn't a hit, every word that wasn't volatile or laced with biting mockery, he hated that as much as he tried to avoid Ramsay, he still found himself often longing for the other man's presence. 

Ramsay paused his lining, head tilting as he looked into those watery eyes. "What's wrong, Theon?"

The use of his name rather than 'Reek' and the soft way in which it was spoken broke something in him and he gasped a weak sob, fat tears falling down his face. He couldn't answer, his throat felt too constricted, and even if it hadn't he still didn't think he could tell Ramsay just why it was he was crying. It wouldn't make any difference, and it would only serve to make him appear weaker. That was the last thing he needed.

"Oh, Theon, Theon, Theon," Ramsay tutted, setting the liner pencil down to grab a few tissues. "Here. Now I'll have to start all over again, darling, you're completely smudging my work. I haven't even gotten to the mascara, yet! Come on, love, there's no sense in blubbering, you know you have to do this, so just settle down and deal. Before you know it, the night will be over and you can go back to looking like you. Okay?"

Theon nodded and dabbed at his eyes, blinking rapidly and taking big, shaky inhales to try and calm down. Sniffling, he sat back and let Ramsay continue, and he tried to focus on something other than the way Ramsay was touching his face.

Mostly, he wondered why Ramsay was doing something like this. It was strange and awkward, and it made him so uncomfortable. But was that the point? Was Ramsay doing this to make fun of him? ...Was this because of the whole dog collar thing? Ramsay did say he'd been humiliated, and maybe this was retaliation, but it sure as hell didn't seem at all fair. Why did the other man never want to give a punishment that matched the goddamn 'crime'? 

After the eye make-up had all been applied, he opened his mouth to let Ramsay put on the lipstick, and when that was done his captor leaned back to take a look at him. The raven-haired man exhaled and gave a strange, crooked grin, eyes wide and roaming. "Stunning. Perfect, even. Here, take a look at yourself." 

Ramsay spun Theon's seat around so that the ginger was facing himself in the vanity mirror. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, and his shoulders hunched in on him in self-consciousness. He swallowed thickly and looked away, not wanting to see himself like that any longer. That wasn't Theon Greyjoy looking back at him, it was a costume, a fucking joke, a punishment. 

"I look like a whore, Rams, like, like I'm in a fucking cabaret or something..." He huffed a quick laugh, but there was no humor to it.

"Stand, see yourself in the full-length," Ramsay kept that uncomfortably-intense stare on him as he took the boy by his arm and led him to the other mirror. He moved to stand behind him, placing his big hands over those hunched shoulders as he watched himself lean in and murmur in Theon's ear. "Look at you, Reek... aren't you just the prettiest little slut. You'd make all the girls jealous of yourself and all the boys jealous of me, wouldn't you?"

Theon looked himself over, and he hated what he saw. He'd never felt more self-conscious and insecure, and he felt more and more humiliated with each passing second. The clothes felt strange on him and left little to the imagination, and the make-up was so contrasting with his skin and hair that he felt like a damn clown. It hurt. It hurt that Ramsay was treating him this way, that he was mocking him and embarrassing him so badly, and it was probably all because of a stupid collar he didn't want to wear. He felt his pride wane, and he just couldn't wait for Ramsay's big, mean joke to be over. 

They got him dressed and made up, he saw himself, he felt bad, haw-haw, boo-hoo, were they done yet?

Then he saw the arousal blazing in the reflected Ramsay's eyes. He felt and heard the husky, heavy breaths against his skin, and nudging at his back was surely the other man's erection. He saw Ramsay tilt his head and press quick, nipping kisses along his shoulder and up to his neck, and suddenly his breath quickened and his heart began to pound hard. He didn't want this, none of this heated affection and lust that Ramsay was trying to give, especially not when he was feeling so ashamed and distraught. He pulled himself away from his captor and turned to look at him, shaky hands raising submissively. His voice was unsteady but there was conviction there as he said, "No. No, Rams, look, I-I did all this, I'm mortified and emasculated just like you wanted. Please... I-I can't do that, not like this, and not after everything, I can't with you anymore. 'M sorry."

Wrath burned in those eyes, brighter than the arousal had, and suddenly Theon's wrists were grabbed so hard he thought he felt the bones grind. He yelped, and when he tried to protest, Ramsay cut him off.

"You will not tell me 'no',  _Reek_. You will never tell me 'no' ever again, and if you do you will regret it. You will regret the day your bitch mother spat you out if you deny me, do you hear me?"

Theon did, but his panic drove him into flight mode and he began to struggle, trying hard to pull his wrists free. He moved to kick out at Ramsay's thigh, catching the bigger man hard above his knee. Ramsay buckled slightly, but his grip never wavered, and he roughly yanked Theon towards himself so that their foreheads met. The headbutt made the ginger see stars, and instantly, he was stunned. Before he knew it, his legs were being swept out from under him, and he fell hard onto his side. It hurt, and he felt like he couldn't breathe, but still he fought, voice cracking as he began to beg, "Ramsay, please! Please, stop this, I don't want this! Rams-  ** _NO_**! Ramsay,  ** _STOP_**!  _Stop_ _stops_ _topp_ _leases_ _top_ -!!"

Ramsay ignored his begging, ignored the hands shoving and clawing at him, ignored the knees to his stomach and ribs. He was stronger, angrier, and he had desire driving him, and nothing Theon did was going to make him stop. He bit Theon hard on one forearm while he grabbed at the other and twisted his hold on the still-sensitive flayed area. The frantic Greyjoy shrieked at both pains, and as he retracted his wounded arms, Ramsay took that opportunity to grab him and swiftly flip him over onto his stomach. He straddled his victim's thighs and pinned one hand to that pale lower back while the other darted up to take hold of those red curls. He wrenched Theon's head back so that the boy was facing the mirror once more, and, smiling wolfishly, he growled, "Look. Fucking look at yourself. I want you to see this, I want you to see everything I'm going to do to you, Reek. I want you to see your face the moment I shove my cock into you. I want to see your own crying face as I fuck you hard. I want you to see your stupid fucking face the very instant I cum so deep inside of you and claim what's rightfully  _mine_."

Theon sobbed hard, unable to take his eyes away from himself. His make-up was smeared and running with his tears, lipstick smudged in the struggle, and his face was screwed up with his terror and crying. The man above him looked demented, wrong, as if a demon had stolen Ramsay's skin, and he'd never been more terrified in his life. 

The first time he'd been hit, all the moments of torture, him being hunted... none of that compared to seeing himself in real time being pinned and threatened, haunted by that smile and those eyes, raped and terrorized by a man-  _a_ _monster_ \- that he used to love and respect. The beast that held him down was not Ramsay Bolton. It was not  _his_ Ramsay, it was not even  _that_ Ramsay, it was something else entirely, and he knew he wasn't getting out of this no matter how much he pleaded.

Dread filled Theon as he watched Ramsay sit up to work his belt and jeans one-handed before roughly yanking them down to reveal his heavy, aching cock. The red-head started to beg again, louder as he saw Ramsay lube himself with only spit before shuffling back to shove Theon's panties aside and get positioned. 

"Ramsay,  _please_!! Please, don't do this to me, 'm sorry, 'm sorry, I-" An agonized wail erupted from him as he was suddenly, painfully entered and filled. 

He arched sharply and tried to retreat, but that other hand held him down, and he dug his fingernails into the floorboards trying to drag himself away. It was no use, he couldn't free himself. He could only cry and sob as Ramsay wasted no time with beginning his thrusting, rocking and jostling the smaller male hard.

Ramsay's eyes wandered back to the mirror as he fucked into Theon, and he groaned low and needy when he saw the two of them. Theon was beautiful- no, gorgeous- with his make-up ruined and his reddened face streaked with tears and snot and spit, and his sweaty, trembling body lurched back and forth with each angry thrust. The way those green eyes shone with tears, the way his face was screwed up with his crying, the way his chest heaved from those sobs...

His own face was red, too, and he panted like a dog as he looked into his firey blue eyes, watching himself fuck and hurt Theon. It heightened his lust further and drove him crazy, and he threw more force into his actions. He almost couldn't hear Theon's cries over the loud, buzzing white noise going off in his ears, over the blood pumping so hard he thought he might pass out, over his snarled mantra of ' _mine... mine... you're_ ** _mine_** _..._ '.

Before he realized it, his hips were snapping forward and his body went tense. He gave a few last, clumsy, stuttering thrusts before he groaned loud, muffling the sound as he shot forward and bit deeply into the crook of the ginger's neck, drawing blood. His eyes stayed on the glass the whole time, and he watched as a look of sated pleasure began to wash over his face, watched as streamlets of blood dribbled from between his bared teeth. 

He'd seen Theon through it all, and each shocked, hurt, betrayed expression was more beautiful than the last. When it was all over, the look of relief and devastation before the thousand-yard stare arrived was worth more than gold to the young Bolton, and he sighed heavily in contentment. He released those sweaty, red locks from his hand and pulled his hips back, drawing out of Theon's ass and delighting in the blood and cum that followed. 

Theon lay motionless beneath him, body wracked with shivers as he stared emptily at his own reflection. His jaw was slack and his green, red-rimmed eyes were wide, tears falling freely to the wooden floor. He paid no attention to the man behind him, and he barely even felt it as that cock left him. He flinched violently when Ramsay suddenly laid down beside him and slung an arm over his shoulders before leaning in to peck a quick, bloody kiss on his cheek. 

"Tell me, Reek," Ramsay said, voice cheerful and friendly as if he hadn't just done what he did. "Do you feel like dancing'?"

 

* * *

 

 

Theon stood there in the living room, surrounded on both sides by the four boys while Ramsay watched him from the front. He looked at none of them, though, dull eyes staring off elsewhere. The noises they made were all muffled and in-out with him, and he didn't hear much of what was said whether it was about him or not. 

After his rape, he'd been given a little while to recuperate. He hadn't moved from the floor by the time Ramsay had come back to him, and he had to be carried down to the bathroom where he was bathed and redressed in the lingerie and had his make-up redone. 

Nearly every touch had made him wince, and the whole time Ramsay was treating him, he was trembling like a timid rabbit. Not once did he make eye-contact with Ramsay, and not a single word or sound left his lips, not even when his terribly-sore backside and bite wounds were cleaned and treated. He heard everything Ramsay said to him, and he absently saw him from the corner of his eyes, but through it all he felt like he was in a fog, that this was all happening in a dream or something.

He still felt that way as he stood there in the center of the living room, like the eyes that leered at him or the harsh sounds coming out of those mouths were all just something out of a dream, or that he was maybe even having a half-assed out-of-body experience. 

Ramsay had told him what he wanted him to do as he was bathing him. He'd mentioned the boys were coming over, and he wanted to give them, as well as himself, a special little treat for having put up with Theon's bad behavior and disrespect. As Theon listened to the instructions, he knew it was all just another part of his humiliation punishment, that even rape wasn't enough and just a little more salt had to be ground into the wounds. He knew he was going to end this night ruined and broken, that he would never be the same and that something was going wrong within him. But, he didn't protest, didn't try to get out of it. He only nodded dumbly, silently agreeing to every word.

So, now he stood there, still dressed in his degrading costume, with all eyes on him as he stared into space, vulnerable body shivering and heart pounding in his chest. When Ramsay had finally activated the stereo system, the red-head's eyes closed and burned with tears the instant the opening chords to Poliça's ' _Tiff_ ' thudded out throughout the living room. 

He hadn't cried since the rape earlier, and since then he'd felt almost nothing but blank numbness. But, now that  _that_ song started to play he suddenly felt overwhelmed with his emotions. He'd loved this song; during some of the times when he and Ramsay had been intimate, they'd been listening to music, and this song always seemed to come around at their climax. Often times, Ramsay would have it repeat until they were finished, and the slow, sensual track always seemed to help them get there. 

Theon's head was flooded with memories of the two of them in bed, thrusting heated and lazily against each other, moaning and whispering affections and appreciation in-between deep, needy kisses. He remembered the way he would whimper out Ramsay's name, how he would mewl out that he loved him, and it took everything in him to hold back his need to weep as he started to move and sway slowly and sensually in time with the song. 

_"_ _Pretend you're in a strip club_ _!_ _"_ Ramsay had told him, and so that's what he tried to do now. He tried to let the song take control of his body so that he could move just right. He didn't know what he was doing, and he was wracked with nerves, but those bastards seemed more than happy with what they saw. He had no idea how Ramsay felt, neither seeing nor hearing him, but he carried on as best he could with the state he was in and the limited knowledge he had. His hands moved lazily over himself, and when he stripped out of his corset the cheers and cat-calls of the boys made him cringe. Still, he continued to move his hips in a lazy sway, and his nervous hands roamed over his body to tease at himself. He hated it, but he forced himself to get close to each of the four men at his sides, letting them touch and grab at him, letting them grunt and hiss their filthy comments. 

He felt sick, but he was grateful the song was brief and that this would hopefully be over soon enough. It helped when he managed to keep his eyes closed or on everything but the other men's faces.

Eventually, after he'd opened his eyes again, he glanced to his left and saw that Ramsay was sprawled in his chair, staring at him with another of those intense, calculating gazes. Other than that, though, he received no reaction from the man, nothing like what his friends were giving, and, despite his complete embarrassment and hatred towards everyone and himself at the moment, some tiny part in him screamed that he absolutely  _had_ to please Ramsay. 

Theon shyly wandered over to Ramsay, flinching hard at the gauntlet of ass-grabs and fleeting touches, choosing to ignore them as he went to his captor and began to give him the best lap dance his damaged and inexperienced little self could muster. His eyes were wet with tears, some of them having slipped free, and the orbs were red-rimmed and sore from all his crying. His make-up looked less pretty, and his outfit had been clearly man-handled with its disheveled pieces and torn stockings. There were also the bruises and bitemarks he'd sustained during the assault, and many of his movements were made slightly awkward or stiff from the pains and soreness he felt. Still, none of those faults seemed to bother Ramsay in the slightest, if anything, it just entertained him more, and as he leaned back against the bigger man's chest, ass grinding in his lap, he'd felt the tell-tale bulge as clear as day.

When the song finally ended, he was sat in his final position. He found himself straddling Ramsay's lap and hugging his arms around those strong shoulders, hands buried in thick, black hair, and when he looked into Ramsay's heated, half-lidded eyes, he sniffled, cheeks blushing almost painfully-hard as he realized just what he'd done. Ramsay must have sensed the heavy wave of embarrassment coming along, because Theon's red lips were pressed into a kiss, one he found himself awkwardly, absently reciprocating, and any and all thoughts temporarily blanked from his mind.

His captor pulled away, lips tinged with smudged crimson, and he rasped, "Very good, Reek. Very good. Now go upstairs and get some rest."

Theon was about to get out of Ramsay's lap, but the other man caught him again to throw a last-minute comment into his ear. "I love you, darling."

Theon's heart shattered, and he quickly pulled himself away from Ramsay. The tears fell more freely, and he gave a few weak, shuddering gasps as he hurried up the stairs. He could hear the boys laughing and cheering once more, throwing their remarks and compliments to Ramsay, but all that noise was drowned out by his bedroom door slamming shut behind him. He dropped to the dusty, wooden floor and finally let himself properly break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be relatively 'lighter', if you can call anything with Ramsay 'light'.


	12. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this took forever to write. The first part was easy, then the second half came in and was so frustrating, I couldn't decide what to do with it and what to place where. Sorry it's so brief, and I apologize for any errors (I rushed through the editing a bit, I have to leave for a training for work but wanted to get this in right away), I'll try to put more effort into the next chapter. Thanks for reading guys, and I hope this was a nice break from the last one.

It was late. 

The digital clock on Theon's nightstand read 4:48 in glaring red numbers, but he wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon. After he'd come back upstairs, he'd spent a long time crying his eyes out, so much so that he'd ended up hyperventilating and giving himself a headache, and once he was through with that he immediately removed his make-up as best he could and stripped out of the lingerie. He shoved those items under his bed so he wouldn't ever have to look at them again, and then he'd dressed himself up in a loose, over-sized tee and some sweatpants before crawling into bed.  

He hadn't been able to get to sleep, and he's spent the next hours lying there and listening to the muffled noise of Ramsay and the boys down below on the first floor. He wished they would just shut up, wished the boys would leave and Ramsay would go to bed so that he could finally get some peace and quiet.  

It wasn't until about 3:50 or so that things finally seemed to wind down, and for the next hour after that it had been dead silent. He knew everyone was still in the house as he hadn't heard the door slamming or any of the cars driving off, and he lay there hoping they'd all either passed out from the booze or had finally fallen asleep.  

So, at 4:48, after an hour of silent stillness, he got out of bed and crept to his closet. He did just as he had the first time he'd escaped, and pulled on his boots, an extra shirt or two, and his jacket and gloves. He grabbed a scarf this time, and a different cap since the previous one he'd worn had been lost out in the woods. Once he was ready, he headed for the window and unlocked it.  

Frozen-stuck again. Dammit. He didn't have a stray knife this time, so he looked around his room, creeping around until he spotted a pair of scissors in one of his desk drawers. They'd be plenty good enough, and he took them over to the window where he began to pry at it. He was slow and careful, working as quietly as he could manage, and when the window finally popped open he wasted no more time. The window was heavy, and he saw why; there was at least another foot of snow that had fallen in the last hours, on top of all the other snow that had come from just today, and he gasped at how bitingly-cold it was out there. 

Carefully, he climbed out and pulled himself into the snow stacked onto the roof tiles, and when he looked down the property was a blanket of white. He closed his eyes and whispered a soft thank-you and prayer to the Drowned God, and he hoped tonight the snow would be thick enough that when he landed, he wouldn't get hurt this time. 

Though, he also wouldn't be all that devastated if the fall broke his neck and killed him. 

_No, c'mon, Theon, don't think like that... you need to be confident, even if you might not have much confidence left._  

He climbed down to the edge, and, just as he had done before, slung himself over it with as tight a grip as he could manage on the gutter. Feeling braver than he did that first time, he braced himself and dropped, landing on his back in a large, deep snowdrift. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and powdery snow now covered his body, but as far as he could tell he was in the clear. No pain, nothing broken, nothing sprained... the only ache was from his ass, but  _that_ was not caused by the fall. 

He wriggled and pulled himself out of the snowbank, brushing himself off before sneaking to the kennel. The girls were fast asleep despite his ruckus off the roof, and he decided not to bother them. His girls... he hoped they would be able to be free, too. Maybe... maybe, when he escaped, if he got the police involved and got Ramsay arrested, he'd be able to take the girls and let them live with him and Sunny.  _I love you. I'll come back for you soon, I promise._  

He left. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon trudged through the knee-deep snow as he passed between the massive pines. It was so cold... He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd been walking for at least three hours or more –at least, if felt like he had. The sun still hadn't risen, though, and everywhere was pitch black and freezing. He felt like he was trying to walk at the bottom of the sea. 

He couldn't feel his extremities or his face much anymore, everything was starting to go painfully numb, but what he could still feel stung like crazy, and he shivered so hard he thought he was going to go into convulsions. Each breath was more ragged and burning than the last, and he was beginning to feel so tired. He had to keep going, though. He couldn't stop now, not after all he'd been through, not after how far he'd walked. He couldn't risk stopping now and letting his tormentor get that much closer to him.

Theon had decided to go the opposite way this time, the way towards town, in hopes that if Ramsay came looking for him, he'd be headed towards Roose's property thinking that his captive had gone there again. It was only twelve miles, he'd told himself. That was, what, roughly three hours? He could do that, even with the snow and cold. 

...Then why wasn't he to North, yet? Why wasn't he seeing any lights, hearing any traffic? Why were his surroundings nothing but pine and snow? Surely, he had walked far enough...? 

It was best not to think of it.  

_Just keep going, you have to keep going._ And he did, despite the way the snow seemed to get deeper now, reaching up to mid-thigh on him. It pulled at him like reaching hands, dragging him like an undertow, but still he forced himself onward. 

_You can't let him catch you... you can't let him catch you..._

Theon had hauled himself about twenty feet further, trying to pass a pine, when he was sucked into a tree well. One moment he was breathing stinging, icy air, the next he was inhaling snow, and suddenly he could hardly move. In that moment, the ginger desperately tried to remember everything Ned Stark had taught him about tree wells and how to save yourself, but his mind was too foggy,  too sluggish, and he could only catch bits and pieces.  

The snow was heavy and the tree at his back had him pinned, and he couldn't flip himself around to get purchase to pull himself up – even if he had the strength to, he wasn't sure he'd be able. He tried, though. He used the last of his energy and will to swipe up at the snow above himself, and the clearest part of his mind thanked the gods that what was over him was shallow enough that he was able to clear a small path. The bitter air kissed his face, and he inhaled deeply despite the burn it caused in his lungs.  

He couldn't fight much more than that, though. Theon was trapped in this tree well, at least face-up and breathing, but he knew he couldn't possibly have much longer. He was sad, but... he was also strangely okay with that. If he died now, he'd die a free man, outside and not by the hands of anyone but nature and the gods. Yes. Yes, he would be okay with that. In the Spring, someone would find him, take him home to the Starks or Yara, and he'd be properly laid to rest. If not, he would be found by the animals, by the insects, and his bones would be home for moss.  

He was alright with that, too.  

Every part of him ached until nothing ached anymore, and all his shivers started to subside until he was still as the night. Brief glimpses passed through his mind, soft, quick images of his family, of Ramsay, of his four lovely girls, and then Ramsay again, and then nothing. Everything was suddenly so peaceful, so quiet and calm, and Theon closed his eyes and went to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon woke up to dim lights above him, as well as a soft bed under his back and warmth all around him. His tired eyes slowly crawled over his surroundings and all he saw was whiteness and sterility. There were a few machines hooked up to him that he noticed, too, but then he also saw that he wasn't alone; to his left, Robb Stark was seated there in the chair, looking absolutely exhausted as he half-assedly read the months-old magazine in his lap. The other man didn't seem like he'd noticed him, yet. 

Theon wasn't sure about a lot of things at this particular moment. He wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, or if this was some strange hallucination he was experiencing. He was still back at the Dreadfort house, right? No, wait- he'd been in the woods, in the snow, and it was all dark out. He had to have been hallucinating, then, and this must be the moment before death, that moment where people see things before death takes them. Either that, or he really was already dead and this was just some strange afterlife. Huh. He thought there'd be more crystal-clear ocean water and white-sandy beaches flecked with solid gold coins. This was a little lack-luster.

He couldn't move very well, so his arm stiffly nudged against the rail of the bed, and he grunted, unable to get any words out. Both sounds did just the trick of getting dream Robb's attention, though, and the Stark boy startled in his seat, eyes widening as he looked at Theon. 

"Theon! Oh my gods, you're awake! Fuck-!" Robb stood up, the magazine falling from his lap, and he rushed over to Theon's side, hesitantly touching at his face, his own wearing an expression of absolute relief. "Fuck, dude, I thought you were a goner, or-or like a vegetable or something, or I don't know!" 

The ginger groaned and mumbled something unintelligible that was supposed to be, ' _why is death a hospital, and are all the angels Robb Stark?_ ''.  

Robb hushed him, "Shh! Theon, shut up, man, you gotta let yourself rest. You're already messed up enough as it is, we don't wanna make it worse just 'cuz you wanna be a jabberjaw." 

Theon heard him chuckle, but he didn't get what was so funny.  

Death seemed more irritating than scary, and he didn't understand why he couldn't move well or talk much more than slurred garbling. He wished Angel Robb could understand what he was attempting to say, couldn't angels at least read minds or something? They had magic powers, right? 

Then, when Robb leaned in and gently pressed their foreheads together in that brotherly way they used to do, sighing in contentment, he suddenly decided he wasn't really all that mad at Angel Robb. He'd missed him, too, and his own happy sigh left his lungs. There may not have been any sand between his toes or salty waves lapping at his shins, but he was grateful that he was at least able to be with a variation of his best friend and brother in the end. 

The two of them tilted their heads towards the door when they'd heard it open, and the sight of a confused, then furious Ramsay greeted them. The growing anger in the Bolton son's voice was evident by the tightness of his words through his gritted teeth as he said, "What's going on here?" 

Robb straightened up and gently set a hand on Theon's tensed shoulder. His expression was even, though the irritation was clear as day. "Theon just woke up Ramsay." 

"I can see that," Ramsay snapped, his blue eyes flicking between the two of them suspiciously. Theon usually knew well enough when Ramsay was jealous, and now was probably one of those times. That wasn't what concerned him, though, no, he was too busy wondering why Ramsay Bolton, his former lover and tormentor was in his death dream. Ramsay was no angel, and he was not a respectable, holy being in general, not by any means. So, what was he doing here with Angel Robb? Unless, this was some kind of purgatory, and he was stuck facing both an angel  _and_ a demon -a demon that he wished was appearing as someone else... 

The other man's presence unnerved him; wasn't death supposed to be an escape? Isn't that why people committed suicide or pulled their family and friends off life-support? And didn't all the books and preachers say that the afterlife brought peace and calm, that there were no more feelings of worry or fear, that it was a place you wanted to be sent to? Why, then, was he sitting here in a sterile hospital bed instead of by the sea, unable to move right and speak anything other than noise? Why was a part of him feeling terrified all of a sudden and wanting to cower closer to the safety of Robb, while another, smaller part was wanting him to reach out and pull Ramsay to his side? Why did that needy, small part of him have to feel  _relieved_ to see the bastard there? That scared him more than anything. The mixture of anxiety and relief blending in his guts made him nauseous, and he thought he was going to throw up.

"What I meant was, what's with the cuddling, hm?" Ramsay gestured between the two at the bed.

" _Dude_ , it's cool, don't worry," Robb said, arms crossing over his chest. "I was just excited to see him awake. You should be, too. Seriously, Bolton, you're his boyfriend, I don't know how you're not freaking out right about now. I nearly shit myself when he woke up." 

"Some people don't need to sob and whine every five seconds, Stark, I can't help it if I can reign my emotions in better than you can," Ramsay gave a big, sarcastic smile. "But believe me, I am _overjoyed_."

Robb grunted and rolled his eyes, then moved around the bed to head for the door, leaving to go get a cup of water from the nurses. "Whatever, just keep an eye on him." 

"Will do." Ramsay waited until Robb had left before he went over to the bed, and Theon, not sure whether or not he could look at him, kept his tired eyes down on his lap. The other man pulled up a seat beside the bed, making Theon visibly flinch, and he tucked a finger under the red-head's chin causing the smaller man to recoil some. He tilted the boy's head up so their eyes could meet.

Even as a demon, or whatever kind of being he was, those eyes were still very much Ramsay's.

Theon shrunk back a little more, and he felt that his ex-lover's eyes would always be far more intimidating to him than those of any wicked spirit. He swallowed and tried to wet his dry throat as he attempted to speak again, croaking, "'M... death... hurts. Why's it... why'm I sore? 'Was told you feel... n-nothing..." It hurt to speak, hell, everything on him ached, and what didn't ache felt either dry or excruciatingly-tingly and dully-burning. 

Ramsay squinted at him a moment as he registered the words Theon had just grunted out, and then he laughed. "Reek," He said, smiling with the same affection someone would have for a goofy, pet dog. "Do you think you're dead?" 

Theon frowned, brows furrowing. He began to shake his head but stopped when it only worsened his migraine. "No... 'm dead... hafta b-be, Rams. Froze to death." 

The Bolton boy nodded, taking Theon's bandaged right hand into his own healthy, big ones as he examined it. "Oh, yes. You _should_ be dead. You should be very dead, actually, and I shouldn't have found you 'til the Spring or Summer, even. But lucky for you, by some miracle, you just barely made it out by the skinniest-skin of your ugly teeth. You need to thank Willow when you get home, by the way, as she's the one who led me to you." 

Theon stared at Ramsay, green, red-rimmed eyes widening with slow realization and dread. He hadn't died out there. He'd actually survived.  _Somehow_ , despite the below-freezing temperatures, despite being out who-knows-where in those pines, despite how long he may or may not have been out there, he'd _still_ managed to dodge death. He had still managed to cling to life at the very last second and keep his miserable, aching self going even when he thought for sure he had given up. 

But, something scared him far more than the idea of a near-death experience, and that was the fact that Ramsay Bolton, the man he'd disobeyed yet again, the man a part of him felt he'd betrayed, was sitting here with him. This man had followed him into the freezing darkness and had pulled him right back out, pulled him right back into the land of the living. A land where he felt that no matter how many people he was surrounded by, as long as Ramsay Bolton was still at his side he'd have nowhere to go, no one to cry out to, and no freedom in sight. Despite the fact that that may have actually been the real Robb that had just been in here with him a few minutes ago and would be again, he couldn't help it when he still felt utterly, completely, alone and terrified.  

It was then that he was hit with another realization, one that screamed, ' _you ran away, and the psychotic man you ran away from is sitting right next to you!_ '. Beginning to tremble slightly, he shrunk back against the bed some, and he looked very meek and apologetic as he rasped, "Look... look, 'm sorry... Rams, 'm s-sorry, sorry... p-please don't... don't be mad..." 

Ramsay stroked the backs of Theon's knuckles, fingertips brushing over bandages and bruise-tinted bare skin. Finally, he spoke again, voice softer, a little distant, even, "I'm not mad, Theon. Ohh, was at first, but then I saw you, and you know, I really thought that you were dead. When I pulled you out of that tree well and saw your blue skin... your closed eyes... the stillness of your body... I felt all kinds of things. You had me very, very worried, Reek. I thought I'd never see those beautiful green eyes ever again, except in my dreams." 

Theon was still anxious, but he did calm a little at the gentle tone and affectionate stroking. He was about to move his left hand across his lap and place it over Ramsay's when he realized what he was doing and stopped. He shyly, stiffly rubbed his thigh instead, briefly giving himself a mental scolding before saying, "I didn't... I just wanted to leave, Rams, 'm scared... 'm sorry."  

He wasn't sure why, but he did feel a hint of genuineness every time he said he was sorry. Something in those blue eyes had him meaning it every time he said it, and his head seemed to feel foggier and foggier. Was he sorry he'd ran away? Or was he sorry he'd managed to get caught? Whatever the meaning, the ginger brushed it off, thinking he was just screwed up from whatever had happened to him out there. 

"I know. All is forgiven." Ramsay lifted Theon's bandaged hand to his lips and pressed slow, loving kisses there. The tenderness both unnerved and soothed the red-head, and he couldn't decide whether or not to pull away.

Against his better judgment, he kept his hand there and reveled in the warmth. 

"The doctors," Ramsay murmured against Theon's knuckle. "They said that had you not been buried under all that snow, you would have died for sure. It retained some of your heat for you, what little you had left, and kept your organs from shutting down. We'll have to see how much damage was done exactly, though, there are a few things that were already quite obvious." 

Theon frowned. "Like," he coughed. "Like what?" 

The black-haired boy pulled back from Theon's hand and raised it, revealing that the bandage was wrapped heavily over where the pinky finger should be. The ring finger was lightly-wrapped, too, but it was up and obvious, though it moved very stiffly, and the action caused pain to the right of it.

"I don't... I don't unnerstand..." 

Ramsay shrugged and answered matter-of-factly, "Well, darling you were out in below-freezing temperatures for however-long, and even though you had gloves it still didn't stave off some of the frostbite. Before my boys and I got you to the hospital, I took the liberty of removing your pinky. Two of your toes, too, Reek. It's going to be a bit of an adjustment, but I think you'll manage just fine, and don't worry, I'm still very attracted to you. More-so now, actually." 

Theon stared at him, looking like he'd been slapped in the face. "You... y'did  _what_?" 

"The flesh was clearly necrotic, darling, and I didn't want you to get sick... And besides, it was either going to be me or the doctors who did it, so it really isn't that big of a deal." 

"' _Isn't that big..._ ' Ramsay, those- those were  _my_ body p-parts!" He breathed a little harder in his panic, but it hurt him to do so. Everything hurt, he felt so sore... the only things that had felt good were seeing Robb and feeling Ramsay being strangely-sweet with him. He was almost wishing again that the cold had taken his life.

"Oh, Reek, Reek, my Reek," Ramsay cooed, reaching out to cup the fretting ginger's face. He leaned in and out of his seat and pressed a kiss to one frost-nipped cheek. "Calm yourself, love, you just need some rest and time. It will all be okay, I promise. You will be okay. Do you hear me?" 

Theon looked into Ramsay's eyes as he pulled back, and he wanted so badly to believe that things would be alright. He looked down at his lap and sighed, still trying to take all this in, but it was too much at once and his headache seemed to be getting worse. The sick little Greyjoy nestled back against the bed and closed his tired eyes, resigned to just giving a slight nod. Maybe, when the next time he woke up, he'd be dead for real and Ramsay would be nowhere in sight.

"Yeah," he softly rasped. "Yeah, okay. Okay." 

Robb came in several minutes later, a large cup of water in his hand and annoyance all over his face. "Fucking- You'd think these idiots would have more people on staff! It took _forever_ to find someone to help m- oh. Wait, is he asleep, or did he-?" 

Ramsay nodded as he stroked Theon's unkempt hair. "Yes, no worries. We'll get that water in him as soon as he wakes up again." 

Robb went back to his seat and set the cup on the side table, hands reaching up to rub at his face. 

"If you're sleepy, Robb, don't hesitate to take a nap. I'll be up to call the nurses in if Theon needs any assistance, alright?"  

The other man sighed and shrugged, getting more comfortable in his seat. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Hey, uh... Hey, thanks, Ramsay. I know we don't really get along, but I'm glad you called me and let me know. I appreciate that, dude, you have no idea." 

He meant it. 

Ramsay gave a small smile, "Oh, you're welcome, Robb. I know you would have done the same." 

"Thanks. My family will be here again tomorrow, hope you don't mind?"  

"No, no, not at all," He did, of course, but he would put up with it if they didn't ask stupid questions or harassed him and Theon. Besides, it was always good for a boy to see his family every once in a great while. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Robb fell asleep, then put his focus back on Theon and the mottled pink of his cold-damaged skin.  

Pity, blue-white had really been Theon's color. 


	13. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another brief chapter, I know, but I hope it helps answer some things and I hope Reek's gradual development is going alright.  
> I know this could have just been added in right with the previous chapter, but it hadn't been written yet, and I was super-impatient and busy this morning. Agh!  
> Goodnight. <3

The next couple of days for Theon were a bit difficult. He'd had a hard time walking and moving properly, his muscles still stiff and sore from what they had endured, but he was getting better over time. Admittedly, though, some of the difficulty was from the two newly-missing toes. He hadn't quite gotten used to the mismatched balance of his feet, as well as the pains from the removal wounds, but worst of all were the strange, itchy, aching phantom pains he thought he felt from those lost toes and pinky finger. Still, he didn't complain –much-, and he'd been getting a lot of help from Ramsay and Robb, with a few of the other Stark children coming in for extra visits every now and again. 

He'd felt a little guilty; he knew his hospital stay was keeping Robb out of school for a several days, and he also knew the bills were probably going to be obnoxiously high and that Ramsay would be stuck with them.  

Well, Ramsay claimed the bills with no protest, and it seemed like he wouldn't get a say in it, anyway. Still, he didn't like that someone else was stuck being financially-responsible for him, even if that someone was Ramsay Bolton, and he especially didn't like the possibility of that being used against him at some point. 

Yara had come to visit constantly, too, and she had been more than a little miffed that Ramsay had called Robb Stark first and then had waited two days before calling her about what had happened. He still had the blackeye she'd given him when she'd gotten here. Theon had freaked out quite a bit over that, knowing damn well how violent Ramsay could get over something as trivial as the word "bastard", he didn't even want to see the damage his ex would cause over a  _punch._   

But, nothing had happened. Despite the obvious shock and fury that had been on Ramsay's face, the man had done nothing to Yara. He simply grunted an apology and left the room for a while. It had left Theon pretty uncomfortable, and he'd spent the rest of the day wondering if Yara was going to find her tires knifed or a dead animal in her dorm mailbox. 

He didn't feel as uncomfortable then quite as much as he was feeling right now, though.  

He was seated on his bed, with Ramsay, Robb, and Yara seated all around him, and now that his throat had healed and he was able to talk better, they were all chatting. Things were going perfectly well for the most part, especially since his siblings and ex were actually getting along for once. It was... strange. Sitting here with his brother and sister, along with his abusive, terrifying former lover, all of them talking like they were old friends. It was eerie how friendly and unassuming Ramsay could be when he wanted, even around people who probably hated him, but here the man was, behaving so perfect and charming. Such a good, attentive boyfriend, too, always checking in on Theon, making sure he was comfortable and hydrated, practically doing more work than the actual nurses. Yara and the Starks had been genuinely impressed, but Theon knew how things really were, and every time he and Ramsay were alone together, he was constantly expecting the other man to suddenly take out his rage on him. Every touch, every word, no matter how gentle and affectionate, had him wincing and bracing himself for a hit or a shout that had yet to arrive. It was easier to deal with the other man when his siblings and the medical staff were around, as he was sure Ramsay would never intentionally hurt him in their presence, at least, not intentionally. But when it was just them, he wondered if the fingers stroking his cheek would suddenly wrap around his throat and throttle him, or if he'd wake up one morning to find Ramsay injecting air into his one of his IVs.

So far, nothing like that had happened to him. Ramsay had done nothing but treat him like glass, and as lovely as it was, it was just too good to be true. Theon was just too fearful and paranoid to really appreciate the kindness and patience being given to him.

Even as he sat here with the three of them now, he still felt a pang of unease every time he glanced to his right and saw Ramsay seated there, but no one seemed to notice his slight discomfort, so the conversation carried on as if everything was perfectly normal. It wasn't until a short while later, when a lull had happened in the conversation, that Robb stared hard at him and asked, "Okay, dude, I have to know; what are those... weird scabbing things on your arm? I wanted to ask since I first came here." 

"Hey, yeah," Yara butted in, gesturing at him from head to toe and sounding just as concerned all of a sudden. "And what about all those other marks? You're covered in cuts and bruises and bitemarks, what is all that? You didn't get all that from hypothermia, Theon. And... um. And the doctors mentioned you had... well, you had trauma to your... y'know. Your ass. Like... well, I don't wanna say it, let alone even think about it." 

Robb looked uncomfortable as he nodded. 

Theon's stomach flipped and his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. Oh gods... he knew this was going to happen, he had expected their questions and accusations to come at any time, but now that he was actually getting them he was tongue-tied and beginning to fill with panic. He swallowed thickly, big eyes looking first at a just-as-tense Ramsay, and then down at his hands as shame filled his cheeks and fear filled his heart. From the corner of his eye he could see that Ramsay was still as a statue, those blue eyes wide and intense and his jaw-line filled with tension. 

_Tell them_ , a voice inside him whispered. And he should. He should just get it over with and tell them everything, tell them what happened and why it was he did what he did that got him placed into this hospital. He'd finally, officially be free from Ramsay Bolton, and he wouldn't even have to die for that to become a reality. What was the worst that could happen?

Well. For starters, Ramsay could react very poorly and very quickly. All he'd have to do is move fast and grab either Theon or Yara, used them as leverage, and there was no doubt that in his anger and desperation the man would be able to do some serious damage or worse. What if he killed himself? Or, what if he did allow himself to be arrested? He had friends on the outside, and what if he gave orders to them that involved harming Theon and his family? That was definitely possible, too. He could just imagine getting into his car and feeling a plastic bag being thrown over his head and tightened, or coming home one day to find Yara sprawled on the floor, raped and dead from a slit throat. His gorge lurched with the urge to vomit, and he had to turn his head so he couldn't see Ramsay out of the corner of his eyes anymore. 

 

And not only that, but there was also the huge weight of shame for himself weighing on his shoulders. He knew how weak he would look, how strong, brave people like Robb and Yara would hear how soft and cowardly he was and how much it would disappoint them. He could easily imagine that, too. The disgust and regret in their eyes as he relayed the details of how he was beaten, harassed, raped, and terrorized. ' _That's not our Theon Greyjoy_ ,' they'd say. ' _Our Theon would never never let himself be used and ruined like that. You're weak, you're no one._ ' His pride hurt just thinking about it.

_Just t_ _ell them, Theon. Just do it. Save yourself. Things won't be as bad as you think..._  

_But what if they will be?_ He couldn't risk it. Better 'safe' than sorry.

"Rams and I..." He started, and he could see all six eyes on him, one pair burning right through him like acid. His stomach flipped and he felt a another heavy wave of nausea wash over him as his brain fumbled for a proper response. "We, um... gods, this is so embarrassing..." 

Robb set a hand on his knee and squeezed, concern and growing anger on his features as he started to assume –and, unknowingly correctly guess- the worst. "Go on, mate, you can tell us.  You're safe." 

Ramsay looked ready to either fight or bolt. 

Theon sighed and kept his eyes on his lap. There was a slight tremor to his voice as he spoke. "Rams and I like it rough when we... when we're intimate. Sometimes, we get pretty hardcore, like this-" he offered the flayed arm and showed the healing wounds, then lamely gestured at his backside. "And that. And other things. We get carried away and then I end up looking like this, heh..." 

Robb and Yara sat back, looking a bit stunned. No one looked more surprised than Ramsay, though, but his shock was only brief, quickly covered back up with the faintest hint of a pleased smile. There was something like pride in those blue eyes, and Theon felt his heart skip, a tinge of fear seeming to ebb away -but only a tinge.  

"A-anyway, guys, 'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that. I know you probably thought it was something terrible, but it's not." 

Yara nodded slowly, looking a little unsure. "I didn't... er, have _any_ idea you were into that kind of... thing. Alright. Well, what my baby brother does in the privacy of the bedroom is certainly  _not_ my business. But Theon, what in the  _hell_ were you doing out in the freezing woods that early in the morning?" 

"Yeah," Robb nodded. "There's no way that shit had anything to do with your weird sex life, man, what the fuck?" 

Theon looked down at his hands again and leaned back into the pillows propping him up. He took a moment to mull that over in his mind, then thanked the Drowned God that he was such a decent liar. "Well, this is embarrassing, too. I feel really dumb, and believe me, you're gonna think I am, ha. So, I had let the dogs out of their kennel, right? Well, Heli saw a buck near the trees, so she took off after it, and the other two followed. I guess they would've been fine, you know, but I got worried; the buck had this huge rack he could have used on them, and if he didn't, there was still that snowplow that comes along every morning, and I didn't want them to get run over. I got dressed up, chased after them, and that's really all I remember. After that, everything goes black." 

Robb and Yara stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, wondering if they believed his next lie, when Robb suddenly bellowed out, "You almost  _died_ for fucking idiot  _dogs_?! What the hell, Theon! Dude- agh, you know better than that!" 

Yara sighed heavily and annoyed, and she rubbed her face. She looked exasperated. "Oh my gods, Theon, I can't believe- no, wait, yes, I can. Ugh, I actually thought you went out there because- nevermind. You know what, I'm just glad you're safe, you moron." 

The Stark son lifted a hand and showed his middle finger at Theon. "You see this? This is my get-well-soon card." 

Theon laughed and rolled his eyes. "Thanks." 

Ramsay stayed quiet through all this, though one of his big hands moved onto the bed and took hold of one of Theon's own, petting it with affection. Theon felt a little warmer, and it helped to dispel some of the disappointment and frustration he felt with himself. It didn't dispel any of the anxiety, though, if anything, that seemed to somehow worsen a little.

Robb slouched in his seat and yawned, shaking his head. "Dumbass. So, you're getting out of here in a few days, right?" 

Theon nodded. 

"Cool, it's about damn time. Er, but is it okay if I check out early? I'm really sorry, dude, I wanna stay longer, but I can't miss anymore classes or I'll be too far behind." 

"Yeah, of course. Shit, don't fail on account of me, you know I'm okay now. Come here and give me a hug before you go, though, prick." He pulled his hand free and held his arms out for a hug. 

"Ew, the Iceman Gayeth," Robb snorted, then got up and grabbed Theon for a careful but warm and brotherly hug. "Love you. Be good, and no more of that weird sex shit, alright? I know you losers wanna spice up your love life, but there are other, safer ways." 

"Shut up," Theon grumbled. He held onto Robb for a long moment, a part of him really, really not wanting the other man to go. One glance in Ramsay's direction, though, and he was releasing his brother, flopping back to the bed with a cough.  

The three of them watched Robb go, and while the chatter did start up again with its previous intensity, Yara seemed to have a hard time taking her eyes off the strange ring of scabs on Theon's forearm. She believed her brother, but something about those wounds just didn't sit right with her.

 

* * *

  

Yara left about an hour and a half after Robb had, saying she had to beat the traffic to work.  

When it was just the two of them, Ramsay stood and went to lock the door, the heavy click making Theon sink into the pillows with a timid look on his face. "Rams...?" He said, soft and cautious, wondering if the bigger man was angry with him. Had he done something wrong? He'd lied for him even when he really, really shouldn't have, but did that somehow piss Ramsay off? 

The other man's expression was anything but angry as he came back over to the bed, in fact, he looked very content and proud. Frightened as he was, Theon honestly couldn't help but lean into the kiss that was pressed against his forehead, the tenderness a welcome difference from the slap he was almost expecting. When they pulled apart, he looked questioningly into Ramsay's wide, blue eyes. 

"You were wonderful, Reek," Ramsay purred, voice quiet and full of praise. Even the nickname didn't rub Theon wrong this time, and he forced a shy, unsure smile up at his captor before some of that confused shame crept back into his eyes. 

"I shouldn't have done that, though..." 

"But don't you see, darling? You did. You knew you had to, you knew you were going to do the right thing, and you did it. You're a very good boy, Reek." 

Theon felt something stir in his chest at the praise, but he still didn't understand why he deserved it. He'd betrayed himself, hadn't he? He took away what could have been his only chance of getting his freedom back, all because of what-if's, fear, and pride. He was a coward, and that wasn't worthy of anything but disappointment and scorn. "How, though?" 

Ramsay cupped Theon's face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. There was something gleeful and sinister in his gaze, but the red-head could only desperately focus on the affection that was tucked away in there. "Because, my love, you saved me just as I had saved you. You protected your Ramsay, don't you understand how important that is? How much that means to me? Loyalty is worth more than gold, my dear, and you've made me a wealthy man today." 

Despite the war of conflicting emotions that raged within him, that touch and those words had Theon absolutely melting. He whispered, "I don't... look, I still don't understand it, but I just knew I had to do it, Rams, I had to lie..." Just as he was lying now. He knew why he had to do it, but the more he faced that truth the more upset with himself he became, the more those lost chances screamed at him.

"You don't have to understand anything, Reek. Just know that I'm glad you were brave and smart enough to trust your gut, and that I'm proud of you." 

Theon whimpered. It was one thing to assume that Ramsay was proud of him, but to hear it confirmed... it made him feel weak in every kind of way, both good and bad. The delicate kiss to his lips worsened those feelings, and he wished so badly he knew what to do. A stronger man wouldn't let this happen to himself, why couldn't he be that way, too? Why did he have to be so weak? His father and late brothers had been right about him.

"Here," Ramsay set a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back against the bed. He crawled onto it after, settling himself between the smaller male's thighs. "Lie back, relax. I've got a reward in mind for you, dearest. Would you like it?" 

_No. No, tell him no, right now, do it. Kick him in the face, knock him out of the bed and press the call button, do it-_  

"Yes. Yes, please, Rams." 

Ramsay sat there simpering as he moved the blanket aside and tugged Theon's sweats and underwear down to expose his limp cock. One touch from that calloused hand had it beginning to throb, though, and they watched as he started to grow hard. Ramsay glanced up at him, pleased, and he snickered, "We'd better make this quick, Reek; a nurse might come by at any moment and wonder why the door's locked." 

Theon reddened more and clutched at the sheets. He wasn't sure what to say, hell, he didn't think he was even able to speak at the moment. He had an urge to push Ramsay away, but that feeling was quickly overwhelmed by his thoughts turning to static the instant those smooth, pink lips kissed the head.  

He blurted, "W-wait, Rams, we shouldn't-" 

"Shh, shh, shh," Ramsay hushed, the sounds and vibrations of him doing so making his captive's length fully spring to life. He hummed happily and set to work, gripping the base and giving a long, slow lick before taking the tip into his mouth.

Theon bucked a little and whined, his good hand flying up to bury his fingers in Ramsay's thick hair. It had been a short while, and Ramsay was always so good with oral, so the ginger knew this wouldn't last too long. He was grateful for that, not just because he didn't want to get caught but also because the conflicted feelings inside him were beginning to get far too overwhelming and distracting. 

Besides... it felt good, damn good, and try as he might, he couldn't deny that. It was a nice change from the pain and discomfort he'd been feeling, both physically and mentally, and if he was being honest with himself he'd kind of earned a simple little pleasure like this, right? Well... maybe not from Ramsay. Maybe from someone else, someone who hadn't raped him, hadn't forced him against his will, hadn't- 

"Darling. Whatever you're thinking too hard about right now, enough. Your erection's waning." 

Theon hadn't even realized he'd been staring off into space with glossy eyes, and Ramsay's comment snapped him out of his daze. He murmured an apology and started thrusting into the Bolton's mouth again, trying to focus on the way the wet friction felt. His libido had him fully-hard again quickly enough, and he kept up his light thrusting. It hurt his sore muscles a little, but the pleasure was worth it, especially with the way it started to clear his mind. 

"Rams," He whispered, voice a little tight. He was getting close. 

Ramsay groaned and suckled under the head. He murmured, "That's it, Reek, that's it, come for me. You're my good boy, Reek." He sat up and started to stroke and squeeze Theon's dick, wide eyes watching his captive's face. His jaw was set and his nostrils were slightly flared as he stared, breathing harder. 

Theon's body went taut and his hips gave one last, weak thrust, and with a soft, breathy cry, he came in the other man's hand and on his shirt. He slumped back into the blankets and thrusted lazily into Ramsay's last milking strokes. Panting softly, he began to feel the shame creep back in and replace the heat in his cheeks. "Fuck..." 

The black-haired man wiped his hand on the sheets and got up to unlock the door, then came back and quickly, wordlessly cleaned Theon up. Once he was done, he leaned over to press a kiss into that mess of red curls. "Thank you, Reek. Keep behaving, I'll be back tomorrow as soon as visiting hours open."  

Ramsay leaned back and looked at Theon, expectant. He quirked his brows up as if to say, ' _well?_ '. It took Theon a moment to register what that was about, and he eventually pecked a hesitant kiss on the bigger man's lips. That must have been the right thing to do, because Ramsay beamed before heading out the door.  

The room was now quiet and dark, and Theon used the remote to tilt the bed back a bit more. He stared up at the ceiling, and then down at himself, disgust twisting his belly but also blending with a strange mix of pride and pleasure. He hated this feeling, and right now, he hated himself.  

But, even if he still didn't quite understand it, he knew that if given another chance to lie that, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sept. 23, 2017) Edited Chapters 12 and 13, hopefully things will make more sense. Thanks for reading.


	14. I (Don't) Wanna Be Your Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for rape/non-con, whipping, and a gun.  
> Also, in case anyone missed it, there were corrections and editing made to Chapters 12 and 13. ( Thanks again for the help on that, Lady_Bunny. )

Theon  _did_ end up lying again, this time to the doctors and nurses who had come in to talk with him privately about his injuries and markings. They had politely asked Ramsay to leave, citing something about 'doctor-patient confidentiality' and his 'medical records' or whatever, but he was sure Ramsay knew why exactly they were chasing him out. 

His ex wasn't dumb.

But, even without Ramsay in the room, even without those icy eyes staring him down, Theon still found himself timid and fretting, forcing himself to tell the doctors and nurses the exact same thing he'd told his siblings. They had looked pretty incredulous the entire time, and there were even a few moments where he nearly caved and told the truth, but the thought of what might happen if he did had kept him from doing so.

The doctors left him alone after that, except for one of the nurses who gave him a few "resource" pamphlets she'd suggested he take a look at. He'd given them one glance, saw what they were, and then promptly stuffed them in the side-table drawer so Ramsay wouldn't see them and assume the wrong thing.

He really had been a 'good boy' again, and he didn't want Ramsay thinking otherwise.

"What did they say to you, darling?" Ramsay had asked as soon as he'd come back to the room, voice on edge and posture tensed.

"They asked me about my body, about, um, what you- what had happened to me. I told them nothing, Rams, just like with Yara and Robb."

Ramsay's proud smile had come back, and the relief it made Theon feel had instantly overwhelmed most of the disgust he'd held for himself in that moment.

 

* * *

 

 

It was several days later, and they were finally headed home. Theon was feeling much better, at least, physically he was, and Ramsay still didn't seem angry with him. In fact, the older man had frequently praised and petted him here and there for his good behavior at the hospital. Theon was relieved about the forgiveness and grateful for the small shows of affection, but all that did little to ease his fears about going back 'home'. 

The drive to Dreadfort Lane had never felt so agonizingly long, and he'd spent the whole trip fretting in the passenger's seat. The heavy hand that had settled on his thigh, in an effort to comfort him, he supposed, had only served to make his anxiousness worsen. 

As they pulled into the road leading up to the house, Theon couldn't help huddling in on himself at the sight of the building. When they'd first come up here together, it had seemed like a dream come true seeing that huge, cozy home, but now it felt like he was being transported to a prison. The sight of the large cabin house no longer brought him any comfort, only fear, and he struggled to stay calm as they pulled up into the driveway. As they got out, not even hearing the barking of the girls coming from behind the house made him feel better. 

"Reek," Ramsay said, already at the front door. He snapped his fingers and pointed at a spot on the floor of the porch, right beside himself. "Get here, we're home. Don't you want to come in?"

_No..._  "Yes, sorry, I was just... looking." Theon hesitated, then went over to Ramsay. The two of them went back into the house and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him, his heart and breathing rates quickening. The closing of the door behind him made him jump, and he closed his eyes, shoulders hunching. Warm hands touched his face, but he didn't look up.

"Hey," Ramsay said softly. "No need to make yourself sick with worry, love. You're home now. You're safe. It's just me and you."

That did nothing to ease his anxiety.

"Now. Come with me, we have a few things to do now that we're here," the dark-haired man kissed his forehead, then moved to head into the kitchen. Theon's brows furrowed and his chest heaved a little when he saw his ex going for the basement door.

He didn't move. "I... to the basement? Why?"

"Because. Now. Get over here, Reek." Another sharp snap of his fingers added with the edge to his tone left no room for argument, and the red-head gingerly walked over. Ramsay took him by the wrist and pulled him down the stairs, yanking him when Theon's dread grew too strong. 

They got to the bunker door and the younger man whimpered, visibly shivering.

"Please..." He whispered, so softly that Ramsay almost didn't hear it over the sound of the metal door being opened. 

Ramsay chuckled and reached around to nudge Theon by his back. "Fear not, my love. I'm not going to leave you down here alone. See? The door is wide open, and I'm with you."

Theon moved along, jittery and more than a little paranoid. "The last- the last time that happened, you had me strapped to that cross."

"A  _saltire_ , darling. And yes, well, the punishment will be different this time, no need for the saltire is necessary. _If_ you behave, of course, ha!"

Theon stopped and turned to Ramsay, eyes wide and brows furrowed in confusion. "What? ' _Punishment_ '? For what? I-I've been good, you told me I was good!"

Ramsay pressed a finger to those quivering lips and shushed him. "Hush, Reek. You have been good, yes, but before that you had run away for a second time, and that, my dear, was very, very bad.."

"But-but I don't understand? You said you'd forgiven me..."

"I did, and you're still forgiven. But I can't just let you get away with bad behavior, come on! We clearly need to continue your training!"

"Training...?" Theon whispered as he was grabbed by the wrist again and led into the bunker room. He looked all around and felt his knees go weak, and he wished he knew what the other man had in mind for him. Hands on his hips made him startle, and he felt Ramsay lift his shirt up over his head. He started to protest, but he was hushed again, and those big hands worked at his belt and jeans, yanking them, along with his underwear, down to his ankles. Immediately, he began to shiver, the chill of the room already biting at his bared skin, and he hugged his arms over his chest. He shook a little more as his ex's hands slid slowly and smoothly up his legs, and a soft, wet kiss was placed on his hip. 

Instantly he was reminded of the night Ramsay had raped him, and, gasping, he pulled away like he'd been shocked, and he quickly put a ten-foot distance between the two of them to cower against the wall. 

Ramsay frowned and looked at Theon, his expression less than amused. "Shy, are we?"

"I-… I'm sorry, it's just... I can't, please don't, Rams, not again..."

The raven-haired boy's sudden, loud laugh gave Theon a scare, one that had him pressing closer up against the wall. 

"Ohoho! And just where was this scaredy-cat behavior when I was blowing you in your hospital bed, hm? You sure didn't seem too  _traumatized_ during that!"

Theon looked down at his bare feet, embarrassed. He didn't understand it either. He couldn't help it if one moment he was hard and willing and then the next he was running and cowering.

"Well, I think you're just being a bad boy again, Reek," Ramsay said, coming closer until he was able to pick Theon up in his arms with little to no trouble. He noted absently that the boy seemed lighter than before, like he'd lost some weight in the last couple of weeks or so, as he hauled him over to the center of the room where the medical cart had been resting. 

Theon knew what was in there; he'd pricked and sliced his fingertips searching in the dark for something he could try and pick the locks with. Ramsay didn't grab any of those, though, instead he reached for a pair of handcuffs that he quickly, tightly, enclosed around Theon's wrists. 

The ginger trembled, eyes darting between the cold metal rings and Ramsay's even colder eyes. He stammered, "Wh-what are you going to do?"

Ramsay smiled big and took Theon by the wrists to pull his arms up over his head, slinging the chain of the cuffs over the hook that hung from the ceiling. Theon winced at the small slap he received to his jaw when he tried to free himself.

"I'm glad you asked!" His captor chirped, then turned back to the cart. "Well, Reek, what do we do with dogs that have been bad?"

Theon looked at the other man's back, confused. "What- I'm not a dog, Ramsay, I don't understand!"

Ramsay pushed the rolling cart away, then turned back to Theon with a worn, leather whip held tightly in one hand. "We whip them! Well, not always literally, of course, but in some cases, it's a necessary discipline. You agree, don't you?"

The red-head saw the whip and his body instantly tried to lean away from it, but he could only go as far as his restraint above him would allow. He'd seen those tv specials and all those history books that showed the damage whips could cause, that showed just how they could split a man's skin open and make him wail like an infant. Breathing harder, he looked back at Ramsay and began to plead with his eyes as he shook his head. "No. No, please, please don't Ramsay! I promise you, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"Ohh, I know you're sorry, darling. But apologies and loose promises don't mean anything when it comes to you, at least, not right now they don't. Maybe someday, though. No, for now, you need to be taught the hard way." He stepped back, unfurling the whip. It wasn't too long, but he knew it would do its job just fine, and he raised his hand before pausing, stopping and holding it there. 

Theon shuddered with a frightened sob, eyes shutting tightly as he braced himself for the impact. He had no idea how it would feel, if it would hurt right away or if it would come later. Would it split his skin? Would he bleed? How-

The whip cracked suddenly in the air, and the sound was followed a split-second later by a lightning bolt of pain across the skin of his thigh. He threw his head back and screamed, then immediately tried to free himself again, his thrashing and struggling with the hooked chain only serving to make the metal cuffs cut and bite into his skin. 

When he twisted around, it left part of his back exposed to his tormentor, and he then felt the slicing pain there now. A second, ragged scream ripped its way out of the ginger's throat, but it was cut off by the whip licking over the backs of his thighs and another across his shoulder blades. His knees buckled under him and he cried out, voice rasping from his sharp, agonized cries. 

" ** _PLEASE_**!! Please, stop, Ramsay!!"

He heard Ramsay hiss something about 'one more', and then he felt another blow to his side. Another scream that was followed by more choked sobs erupted from him, and his pale, sweaty body started to shake all over, no longer from the chill but from the horrible pain. The five wounds were ugly and glaring, with two of them showing as great welts while the last three were open and bleeding. He felt the hot blood dribble down his body, and he wished he could go completely numb again just like he had out in those woods.

The whip clattered to the floor, followed by the muffled thud of Ramsay's shirt hitting the cement, and then there was the clinking of a belt being undone. Theon paid the noises no mind, though, too focused on the pain ripping its way all over his body as he hung there with his numbed arms, his shoulders aching as his poor limbs were forced to support his slumped, dead weight. 

He jolted when big, calloused hands settled on his hips and a nose pressed against his hurting shoulder to inhale his salty, coppery scent. His captor's shuddering sigh of arousal made his skin crawl, and he groaned miserably.

"You're so beautiful, Reek," Ramsay purred, pressing slow, sore kisses to the large, red welt spread across the boy's upper back. Theon felt that horrible erection pressing against the crack of his ass, rubbing a bit before he felt it being slid into some of the dribbling blood. The raven-haired man groaned deeply behind him, and he squeezed more tears out of his eyes as they shut tightly. He gasped and whimpered when that voice slithered into his ear again with, "Don't fret, my pet; we have  _lube_ this time. You're going to love it."

Theon weakly tried to lean away, but he was easily pulled back against Ramsay's bare torso. There was too much contact with his whipping wounds, and he whined at the pain, but Ramsay only reveled in it, his cock giving tell-tale throbs against his captive's pale skin. "Please..."

Ramsay nuzzled the back of Theon's neck, murmuring, "Mmmh, you know, you say that word too much. We'll have to teach you to use it properly, won't we? But, first things first."

Theon felt the slickened tip of Ramsay's cock slip between his ass-cheeks and press at his entrance, and he whimpered and shook his head, hands grabbing uselessly at the cuff chain as he anticipated the oncoming pain. As it pushed forward, his captor's dick went in easier than last time, but only because of the blood coating it. Still, he wasn't properly prepared, and the 'lube' was tacky and thin, so he felt plenty of discomfort and painful stretching. "A-ah! Ramsay, stop!"

The other man ignored him, pulling out nearly all the way before shoving right back in and lifting Theon onto his toes. The ginger cried out, the broken sound echoing in the cold, cement chamber, and it spurred Ramsay on, making him start up a steady pace.

Theon's body burned; there was fire everywhere; in his ass, his torn skin, his chest, his throat, his wrists... He almost wished he was back on the saltire getting beaten and degraded, almost wished those big hands were holding a knife rather than his hips. He cried as Ramsay raped him, but his sobs weren't as loud and ragged as that first time, no, they were mostly just cracked and tired, so exhausted from all the pain. He was cold and hurting, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the floor and sleep for the rest of his miserable life. 

At some point, though, he was pulled out of his thoughts when Ramsay struck hard against his prostate. He gasped and yelped, a bolt of pleasure shooting up his belly and his cock twitching to life. Theon regretted the reaction as soon as it happened, because there was a brief pause before a low, husky chuckle sounded, and then Ramsay was grabbing him by the backs of his knees and lifting him, spreading him wide and pounding brutishly fast against his prostate. Theon cried out again, sobbing in pleasure and shame, and despite the pains in his body, he was quickly overwhelmed by the shocks up his spine and the stars behind his closed eyes. 

"See?" Ramsay hissed, his voice rasping and his teeth gritted. "See, Reek? I knew it, I fucking knew you'd love this, you  _whore_. You fucking slut, you're going to beg for me to let you come, aren't you!" 

Theon shook his head, but he knew the other man was right. He couldn't help it, the bastard was striking gold nearly every time and it just felt too damn good, his body was betraying him.

Sure enough, after a few more of those rough, deep thrusts, Theon tensed up against Ramsay's front and bit his lip to stifle his moan as he came, spilling his seed onto his sweaty stomach and the blood-spattered floor. He was thrusted into a bit longer, and soon Ramsay was coming, too, the release filling and stinging his insides. 

The two of them slumped against each other, panting and shivering, Theon's breath coming out in ragged hitches. 

The red-head protested when Ramsay lifted him higher, the movement causing his whipping wounds to ache more, but he was finally able to free the chain from the hook and bring his arms back down. He hugged the numbed, slightly-bloodied limbs to his chest and ducked his head, huddling into himself as he was lowered back down, but his knees went out from under him and he dropped to the floor.

A soft, husky laugh echoed above him. "So, it was  _that_ good for you, too, eh, Reek? Come here."

Theon was hauled up into Ramsay's strong arms and carried out of the bunker, and he hid his face against the bigger man's chest in shame as he felt blood and cum trickling down his quivering thighs. He hated this, hated himself, and felt nothing but disgust, and he wished Ramsay would just break his neck or something and be done with it so he wouldn't have to feel this way any longer.

When they made their way up to the young Bolton's bathroom, Theon threw up as soon as he was set down into the tub. He vomited up everything he had in his stomach from breakfast earlier, and then he began to cry again, curling in on himself and trying to hide away against the porcelain. Ramsay only clucked his tongue and brought down the removeable showerhead to start rinsing him off, treating the poor boy as if he was simply a sick, fussy child. 

Theon was washed, his wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and he was given water and a light broth that he ended up vomiting back up. Then, he was put to bed on the floor of Ramsay's room in a nest of some old, dark sheets, still naked and shivering in shame, fear, and pain. As exhausted as he was, it took him hours to fall asleep, and when he finally did, it was restless.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon woke up early the next morning, so much so that it was still dark when he looked towards the windows, and he heard Ramsay breathing slowly and deeply in the bed behind him. 

The little Greyjoy carefully rolled over onto his front and gingerly pushed himself up. His body screamed at the movement, but he ignored it as best he could and slowly, quietly crawled over to the side of the bed where Ramsay was facing. He peered over the edge and saw his ex looking peaceful and deceivingly-sweet and beautiful. 

The sight made his heart ache and the bile rise in his throat.

Shaking it off, he looked around trying to find something he could use to hurt the other man with. There were pillows he could use, but he knew if he tried to smother Ramsay or do anything that might take too long, he'd be too easily over-powered and probably killed himself. ...or hurt worse and raped all over again. Frankly, the latter consequences seemed more dreadful.

There had to be something... he crawled a little closer to the sleeping man's nightstand and cautiously pulled open the drawer, eyes on that unconscious face across from him. When Ramsay didn't wake, he turned his attentions to the contents of the drawer and saw one of the man's pistols stashed away in there. 

He swallowed thickly, staring hard at the cool metal before he hesitantly reached in and picked it up a few inches from the drawer. It was heavy, heavier than he was expecting, so it must have been loaded, and the safety was left off. He took another look at Ramsay and saw the man was still asleep, still breathing deeply, eyes flickering under the lids as he dreamt. Theon briefly wondered what monsters like that dreamed of, and after figuring it was probably more torture and misery, he decided he didn't really want to know after all. No matter, it wouldn't be important anymore after this.

Theon stood up on unsteady legs, his whip-wounded thighs shrieking up at him with the pain of doing so. But he couldn't pay that any mind, not when he had something far more important to focus on. 

Once the source of his pain was finally dead and gone from this earth,  _then_ he could think about everything else.

But, when he pointed the loaded pistol at Ramsay, finger on the trigger and just a half a foot away from the sleeping man's head... he found that he couldn't do it. Try as he might, his trembling hand just couldn't force his finger to pull back, and as much as a part of him desperately wanted – no,  _needed_ \- to, the rest of him just couldn't kill Ramsay Bolton. 

He didn't know what was holding him back. Was it the coward that had helped him lie his way through the questions back at the hospital? Or was it that strange, filthy part of him that still held a tiny, dwindling flame of love and hope for this horrible beast?

Theon wasn't sure he wanted to face the answer to that just yet.

His hand lowered and his finger slipped off the trigger, and the rest of his actions were fairly mechanical as he set the gun back down and went back to his nest on the floor. Lowering himself onto his good side, he spent the rest of the morning berating himself and crying silently until he fell asleep again.

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay woke up two hours later with the winter sun coming in through the windows and resting on his skin, the sound of Theon's softly-rattling breath emanating up from the floor. He groaned and stretched, then sat up properly and rubbed the sleep out of his face, but something off to his left caught his eye. 

He turned to see his nightstand drawer just barely opened, and when he pulled it the rest of the way he found his pistol had been set down differently. One dark brow quirked up, and he got out of bed to move to where Theon lay sleeping. He found the boy curled up in the fetal position, wrapped in a blanket and facing the footboard of the bed. Other than a few stray blood stains that had seeped through his bandages and onto the blankets he laid on, there was no other evidence that he'd moved at all. 

He had, though, hadn't he? He'd gotten up at some point and found the gun, even moved it. So why hadn't he used it? It was loaded, the safety was off, it was recently cleaned and in perfect working condition, yet the Bolton son was still breathing. 

Why was that?

Whatever the reason, he was honestly very pleased. Surprisingly, he felt no anger towards Theon, only pride in his pet's growing success. This, now  _t_ _his_ was the kind of obedience he was expecting from his Reek, the kind of pure loyalty he needed and desired. He was curious to see if anything like that would happen again, and he wanted to try something. He returned to the drawer and took the gun out to remove the bullets, and once all of them were gone, he set the empty weapon back down into the nightstand and closed the drawer. He almost hoped his pet would try another attempt at his life tonight, if only to try and catch him in the act. The thought of that amused him, and he left Theon sleeping on the floor while he went downstairs to start his day.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon spent the day alone in the house, but his solitude wasn't a comfort. He was paranoid, staying confined to the floor of Ramsay's room most of the time, and though he wandered out every now and again, any little sound had him running right back to his nest to cower under the covers. He had no idea where Ramsay had gone off to or when he was coming back, and for all he knew, the other man could have parked off down the road and went into the woods to wait with a sniper rifle. 

At one point, he'd worked up the courage to sneak off down the hall to Ramsay's office and where he found the door unlocked, and when he went inside he headed right for the phone. Just as he'd lifted the receiver to his ear, finger ready to dial the emergency number, his heart skipped a beat and he stopped, body going rigid as his wide eyes darted around the room. 

What if Ramsay had set up cameras or a mic somewhere? What if he'd been spying on Theon all day and he could see or hear him at that very moment? 

The ginger had immediately hung the phone back up and left the room, shutting the door behind himself as he hurried back to the master bedroom. It took a long time for him to come out from under the covers after that; he had been expecting his captor to come storming back into the house at any moment because of what he'd just done. 

So, his paranoia had kept him overly-wary, and he stayed on the second floor where he was almost entirely in Ramsay's room, not even daring to wander outside to visit the girls.

It was late in the evening, and he was dozing off on his pile of sheets again when he heard the front door close, his body instantly going still at the sound. His eyes watched the bedroom door, and he listened closely to every footstep and shuffle from downstairs, waiting for his captor to come up. Finally, after five long minutes, Ramsay's heavy boots came thudding up the stairs and down the hall, and soon enough that big, white grin was beaming down on him from across the room. Theon sunk into the sheets.

Ramsay feigned a pout and tilted his head, hands going to his hips. "Aw, Reek, now that hurts. Is that any way to greet your master?"

Theon stared up at him. 

" _Re~ek_ ," Ramsay sing-songed, then bent and started patting his knees like he was calling to a dog. "Reek! C'mere, boy! C'mere! Come!"

Theon's nostrils flared and his fingers dug into the sheets as he bristled, fear turning into wounded pride. Were they really doing this? Did Ramsay really think this was funny? 

_What am I thinking, o_ _f course_ _he does..._

Theon swallowed his pride and stood, body aching and begging him to lie back down. He shuffled over to Ramsay, resisting the strong urge to glare or spit at him, the only thing keeping his attitude in check were his nerves. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, murmuring, "Hello, Ramsay."

The black-haired male smirked and gave a condescending pat to the top of Theon's head. "Good boy. There, now was that so hard? Would have appreciated a nice crawl, though, but I suppose this was a decent enough start."

_You want a dog so bad, you're lucky I don't just shit on your floor right now..._  Not that he'd actually have the balls to do that.

"Where were you?" Theon asked. The look he received in response had him shooting his gaze right down to his bare feet, and it occurred to him then that he was still nude, the scattered bandages wrapped around him doing nothing to lessen his feeling of complete vulnerability. He quickly mumbled, "S-sorry. Nevermind, sir, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just know better next time. If you really must know, I was out at work for a few hours, and then I ran a few errands before I came home. You'll be happy to know I have a present for you."

Theon fidgeted; presents in the Bolton household were no longer things to be excited for. Still, he feigned interest. "What is it?"

"Stay here, I'll be right back!"

Ramsay hurried off back down the stairs, leaving Theon to stand around uncomfortably as he waited. The boy sighed, only wanting to get back to his make-shift bed and get some rest. Everything hurt and he just wanted another long nap, he didn't care about some stupid gift or anything like that. 

After a moment, Ramsay came thudding back up the stairs, a fancy, flat, medium-sized box in his hands. He held it before Theon, practically giddy with excitement, and the ginger prayed that it wasn't more lingerie or a ball-gag or something.

"Well? Open it! It's for you!"

The box was nudged at him with impatience, and he moved to open it with some hesitancy. His thin, jittery fingers undid the little ribbon, then they pried the lid off and brushed aside the paper inside to reveal another dog collar. Except, this one was different from the one he'd been gifted with that last time. The leather was new and genuine, and it was of a fine, smooth quality in a rich, reddish-brown color. The wide, sturdy collar was adorned in metal attachments that were forged out of solid, polished steel, and looped around the front ring was a shining, gold-plated, circular name tag that read ' _Reek_ ' in debossed letters. 

If it was for an actual dog, like one of the girls, he would have thought it was gorgeous, but instead, it made his cheeks flush and his stomach flip with embarrassment. He swallowed thickly, and his lip quivered as he glared down at the 'Reek' label on the tag. 

"That's not funny," Theon whispered, voice cracking a little.

Ramsay balanced the box on one hand and reached out with the other to brush some hair out of Theon's glossy eyes. He spoke soft and sweetly, a little smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "It's not supposed to be funny, darling. It's a gift, and it's for you, for my lovely little Reek."

There was emphasis on that last word that had Theon huffing and shaking his head slightly, his throat getting tight. "'M not 'Reek', Ramsay, 'm 'Theon'. Why do you keep calling me that? You know who I am."

"Ohh, I know who you are,  _Reek_ , I do. I'm afraid, though, that  _you_ do not. So, we're going to show you. Here, let's get that collar on you and see how it looks, eh? Go to the mirror." Ramsay nudged Theon into the bathroom until they were stood before said mirror, and he set the box down onto the sink counter.

Theon looked at his reflection, and the moment reminded him of that first time he'd been abused when he'd gone and looked into the mirror and saw those bruises and teary eyes, and how the sight had made him sick. He felt that way now, seeing his pale, marred skin and how sections of himself were wrapped tightly in bloodied bandages. His eyes were exhausted and dull, rimmed red and slightly-puffy from his previous crying, and his thinning body was wracked with tiny tremors. The sight not only sickened him, but it worried him, too. Ramsay was right, this wasn't really Theon Greyjoy, was it? Theon had never looked like  _this_. Theon looked proud and cocky, happy and vibrant, handsome and strong. This man he saw in the mirror looked weak, damaged, tired, and scared. 

He hated it. He hated him. 

The ginger closed his eyes and winced a little when Ramsay's lips softly grazed a cut on his shoulder, and then a bruise on his neck, pulling the boy out of his thoughts.

"You're so beautiful," The dark-haired man purred, voice laced with huskiness. He didn't pursue any further intimacy, though, instead turning his attentions back to the collar as he lifted it up to admire it in the light. "I really did spoil you this time, pet."

Theon didn't respond to that, gaze lingering on the image in front of him. He watched as Ramsay shuffled around behind him and moved to slip the collar around his neck, head absently tilting up as the object was placed, pulled taut, and then buckled. The tightness of the collar around his neck make him huff a cough, and his heartbeat quickened a bit. He could still breathe, but it was a little strained, and it reminded him of large, calloused hands squeezing and gripping. When he swallowed, it was a tad pinched, and he had to resist the urge to reach up and tug at the leather band.

"Look at yourself, Reek. Tilt your head up again- ah, like that, yes. Yes, perfect. What do you think?"

His green eyes roved over the sight of himself in that collar, the brown of the leather contrasting against his pale skin and the light glinting off the little gold tag. Reading the 'Reek' embedded into the metal made him shakily inhale, and there was so much he wanted to say but had to hold back. 

"It's... It's a little tight. Could you please loosen it, Rams?"

Ramsay appeared pleased that that seemed to be the only issue, and he moved his hands to oblige, working at loosening the collar some. It still clung to his neck in a way that was a constant reminder of its presence, but at least he felt like he could swallow and breathe much more easily. "Better?"

Theon nodded, then looked down at the sink so he wouldn't have to see his reflection anymore. He heard the tag jingle at the slight movement. "Yes. Thank you."

"Good," Ramsay grinned, looking proud. "Are you hungry, Reek?"

The ginger hated to admit it, but he was. He hadn't eaten since the broth Ramsay tried to feed him yesterday, a weak meal that he'd actually thrown up, and food hadn't even crossed his mind during the whole time after that. When he'd said nothing, his stomach answered the question for him with a loud grumble. 

Ramsay laughed. "Come, then, let's get us something to eat."

The captor led the two of them out of the bedroom and down the stairs, heading into the kitchen with Theon following. 

Theon went to sit down at the table, but Ramsay quickly corrected that with a sharp snap of his fingers in the direction of the floor. The red-head stared at him, but his disbelief was only brief. He wasn't really surprised by the command, and he bitterly joked to himself that next he'd be told to roll over. Sighing, he did as he was ordered and sat himself down on the floor, shivering slightly at the cold kitchen tiles. He stayed there while Ramsay prepared their dinner, bored and bummed, fingertips idly tracing the tile patterns as he waited.

When the meal was ready, he watched Ramsay ready two plates, and admittedly he was relieved to see that there wasn't an actual dog dish on the counter. He'd have to eat on the floor, but at least it wouldn't have to be from an animal's bowl. Ramsay set the plate of beef stew down in front of him, then sat down in the seat beside him at the table. There were no forks or spoons given to him, but no matter, he wasn't above eating with his fingers, even if it would be a little messy. His fingers dipped in to grab a piece of meat when Ramsay scoffed and then stopped him. Theon looked up, questioning.

"Dogs don't eat with their paws, Reek. Silly boy," Ramsay chided. His eyes were on the red-head as he spooned his own stew into his mouth.

Theon frowned, heart sinking. Was he really allowed no dignity at all? He felt Ramsay's stare on him as he looked down at his food, empty belly growling and mouth watering with his hunger. His pride ached at the mere thought of getting on all fours and using his face directly, at how desperate and animalistic he would look, but his rumbling stomach rationalized that it was only the two of them, and once he started eating it wouldn't matter how he appeared. At least it wasn't like before where he was locked down in the bunker, not knowing when he'd eat or drink next, right? There was perfectly good food right here, and he didn't know if Ramsay was suddenly going to decide to ration his meals or something, so why was he hesitating? So what if he had to eat like a fucking dog? At least he was going to be eating. Right?

The hunger won out over his wounded pride, and he set his palms onto the floor. The stew smelled delicious, and the heat of it was so inviting, reeling him in by the senses until his tongue licked the first chunk of beef and he pulled it into his mouth. Without further delay, the boy began to eat, and soon enough he was able to blank out the other man's hovering presence beside him.

When he finished, his plate was completely clean as he sat back up, hands settling into his lap and eyes resting on the tiles. A napkin darted out in front of him and it was used to dab the mess off his face. He grunted. He could only imagine how ridiculous he must look to his captor, appearing as some filthy, quivering little collared joke there on the floor. 

"Good boy," Ramsay hummed in approval, and bent to pick the plate up. The man gathered their dishes and moved to the sink to start washing. "Maybe later, I'll give you a treat."

Theon's eyes narrowed and he glared at that broad back, hands twisting into fists in his lap. He made up his mind, and no more hesitations or conflicted, confusing feelings were going to stop him; he was going to kill that bastard tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon waited for the soft, slow sounds of Ramsay's breathing to hit his ears, and after that he waited a little longer just to be sure. 

When he thought it was finally time, he silently pushed his sore body up off the floor and crawled back over to the drawer that held the key to his fate. His heart pounded hard in his chest and his blood thundered in his ears like a storm; he was far more nervous now than he was last night despite the fact that he was certain he was going to try and kill Ramsay this time around.

 Still, he forced himself to keep crawling, forced himself to open that drawer and take the pistol out. A tiny wave of relief washed over him as he saw the weapon was still in place, and when he wrapped his hand over the cool, weighted metal, he thought he would cry. 

The brutalized little Greyjoy was so, so close to freedom, so close he could practically taste it. 

At this point, he didn't even care if there would be legal issues and a criminal case after this, or if he would be judged by the community, or that there might be guilt or shame or trauma from what he was about to do. No, all that mattered in this moment was the freedom and safety just out of reach, and he couldn't wait to grasp it in his hands again after going so damn long without it.

The collar around his neck felt almost painfully-constricting, and the jingling of the tag rang like church bells in his ears. The hand that held the pistol shook, and he tried his best to calm himself, to steady his breathing and focus on the task at hand. 

_Come on, Theon, the safety's off and your_ _finger's_ _on the trigger, so_ _just_ _pound two bullets into his miserable head and you'll be done with it. You and the girls can get in his truck and never come back. Your freedom is only two bullets away._

The ginger placed his other hand on the butt and cupped it, then raised the firearm about a foot away from his tormentor's head. His hands trembled, and he worried that even at this range he wouldn't be able to steady himself enough to kill the other man right away, but he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep, quiet breath to try and sooth himself. 

Just as he opened his eyes, finger ready to pull the trigger, a heavy hand shot up from the bed and clamped down onto his wrist, wide, blue eyes staring him down from the darkness. Shocked, his mouth opened in a soundless cry, and his body immediately moved to back up from the bed. 

Ramsay followed, hand still tightly gripping the frightened boy's wrist as he got out of the bed, and his tracking led them backwards until Theon was pushed right up against the opposite wall. The bigger man yanked Theon's wrist forward and pulled the barrel of the gun against his temple, his eyes unblinking as he hissed, "Do it. Do it,  _Theon_ _Greyjoy._ Gather your balls and shoot me dead  **now**." 

Theon stared back at him, tears beginning to spill freely from his huge, round eyes, and his mouth hung open with his lip quivering, unable to get any words out. He was the one with the gun in his hands, but he was terrified, and if it weren't for the wall against his sweaty back he'd be collapsed on the floor in a shivering heap.

"Well?" Ramsay snarled, white teeth bared. He looked like a panther facing down a hunter, no fear in those icy eyes, only rage and hatred. "You fucking coward. You fucking coward, I've practically gift-wrapped your chance of escape for you and you can't even go through with i-"

There was a resounding series of clicks that shut the Bolton up; the click of the pulled trigger and the click of the empty pistol's slide being yanked back by its inner mechanisms. 

Theon's big, green eyes darted between the clean, open space of Ramsay's intact forehead and the empty, open chamber of the gun. His face screwed up in panic and a pitched whimper left his throat as he frantically pulled at the trigger again, but nothing happened. 

Then it hit him-  _the gun was never loaded_. 

The gun had been emptied sometime between then and last night, but he'd been too scared, to excited to notice the change in weight and to bother doing any double-checking. A choked whine escaped him and he slumped against the wall, eyes giving the weapon a mournful look.

Ramsay's hand released Theon's wrist and slid up to rest atop the open slide, gripping it as he spoke low and steady, voice like a razor, "You see, pet, I'm not stupid like you. I think ahead. I pay attention. Gods, you were so dumb about this I almost think you didn't really want to kill me after all!"

The ginger tried to speak, but whatever his foggy, panicked brain was trying to come up with was immediately wiped out as Ramsay shoved the gun back and jabbed the end of the slide hard into the smaller man's forehead, right between his eyes. Theon had been seeing blue, and then he saw black, and he was dropped to the floor in an instant, body going limp and sagging like a corpse. 

Ramsay tossed the gun aside and bent down to pick Theon up, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him up over his shoulder. The black-haired man stormed down the stairs and then through the dark kitchen, throwing the basement door wide open when he got to it. The wooden steps groaned loudly under their combined weight, and the cold air already began to nip at their bare skin. Theon never woke, though, not even when the bunker door was pulled open or when those terrible fluorescent lights flickered down upon them.

The bigger man dropped his cargo down to the floor next to where the heavy, metal chain was attached, and he began to work the lock at the end with the tag loop of Theon's collar. 

The idiot would probably just unlatch the damn thing, but only if he wanted to end up on the saltire again.

Ramsay scowled as he glared down at Theon. 

Sure, he'd left the weapon there when he really should have taken it, and sure, he'd been a little too curious... but he hadn't expected that cunt to still have any guts left in him to try and do something like  _that_. 

Ramsay Bolton wasn't scared of death by any means, in fact, he embraced it, but he was still human, and he couldn't deny the way his heart thudded hard at the 'what-if's' that could be if he'd been careless and had left the gun loaded.

No matter. After this round in the bunker, Theon –no,  _Reek_ \- would never try anything so foolish ever again. There would be no more disobedience. There would be no more disrespect. There would be no more disloyalty.

He was going to make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, you guys.


	15. Coddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking hell, this chapter was such a pain in the ass to write, and it was made even worse as I was trying to do it during such a frustratingly-busy and strange week. Poor concentration, had a hard time coming up with certain things and then trying to do them in the right order, and, of course, just general throwing myself off and getting distracted. Task-and-a-half..  
> So, let me apologize for the delay, you guys, I know it's been longer than usual, but I hope this chapter is at least decent enough and makes up for it.   
> Now, I just need to plan the next one, and the one after, and I have some ideas but I think the worst part will be putting the events in the right order so I'm not rushing too much or something or getting ahead of myself. I already know how this fic will end, it's just a matter of getting there, ha.  
> Anyway, thanks for the patience, love you.

Theon woke up just as Ramsay was leaving. The sounds of metal clanging and locks clicking into place reached his ears, but the noises were muffled and seemed far away. He lifted his head off the floor and instantly regretted it as a dizzying wave of nausea washed over him, and he groaned at the lousy sensation. 

He waited another moment before he slowly pushed himself up off the icy floor, and when he attempted to crawl forward, he only got about five feet before something yanked at the collar around his neck and pulled him back to the floor. A choked yelp of surprise escaped him, and as he scrambled there on the cement his limbs made contact with the heavy metal chain restraining him to the ground. He'd heard it scrape and clink slightly as he was crawling, but he'd paid it no mind, brain too foggy to really focus on what it could have been. 

Now, though, his mind was clearer, and he knew right away what the chain was and just what it was doing attached to his collar.

He knew where he was. Even without the lights on, it was clear as day. The cold, the cement, the chain on his collar... Ramsay had stuck him in that godsdamned bunker again!

Theon could honestly saw he was very surprised about this, though; after the gun had clicked empty, he'd thought that was it, that that was finally going to be the end of Theon Greyjoy. Ramsay's gaze had looked so icy, so angry and dark, and he'd never been more frightened in his life, but then he'd felt a burst of pain between his eyes and all he saw was black, and the next moment had him here in the bunker instead of up in the master bedroom.

Now that he was awake, he just couldn't believe Ramsay Bolton had let him  _live_. There'd been so much malice in that voice, so much fiery rage in those wide eyes... yet, he was still alive, not to mention, without even so much as a broken bone or flayed limb. 

He raised a clumsy hand to his forehead and gingerly touched the bruising cut there where he'd been struck. The ginger winced as he touched the slightly-swelled area, fingertips sticking to the drying blood there, and he just couldn't believe it wasn't worse than this. It made him a little wary, really.

Well, no matter. If he had to endure a few days in the bunker, probably without food or a bath, then so be it. At least he was alive, and at least that still meant future chances for escape and the defeat of Ramsay. He could do that, couldn't he?

The boy crawled over to the wall and flinched as he curled up on the floor like a puppy , starting to  feel a  little  uneasy  with the cold  settling in on him, but he did his best to brush it off and ignore the way his  heart pounded just a little harder.  It  took a moment for some of the c ement's  c hill to go away  and leech some of his body heat , and  as  soon  as it did,  his hard shivers put him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon awoke several hours later, still curled up and shivering on the floor, but now with the addition of a dry mouth and throat there to kick his ass. The chill had dried him out significantly, and he woke up thirsty and not quite up-to-par. He grunted and coughed, licking his lips as he sat up and squinted into the dark.

Knowing his luck, Ramsay probably didn't leave him any water... he reached up to tug at the lock attaching the chain to his collar and tried to remove it. As he felt at it, he realized the lock was, of course, one that needed a damn key, but no matter, as long as he could still get the buckle undone. His fingers felt along the collar until they reached said buckle, and after a clumsy moment he managed to get the whole thing unfastened and pulled off. The ginger sighed in relief and moaned softly as he rubbed the kinks out of his bared neck, then took a good, deep breath that felt wonderful in his lungs. 

He was a little unsteady as he stood, wobbling a bit from the slight dizziness his previous head injury had caused, so he used the wall to support himself as he slowly wandered along and looked for the bunker's entry door. Using his left hand just like the last time, he guided himself by the wall and down the hallway until his palm swung forward and slapped against metal. Finally.

The door was locked, but that was no surprise, so he started to smack his hands against the metal and called out, "Hey! Ramsay! Ramsay, hey!"

He waited a moment and listened, but he wasn't sure if the other man could even hear him through the door's thickness. Was this place sound-proofed? He couldn't remember. He called out again, louder, voice cracking a bit, "HEY!! Ramsay! ...Look, I know I tried to kill you and all, but water under the bridge now, right? And speaking of water, I'm actually pretty thirsty! You mind tossing me a bottle or two? ...Please? Okay, maybe just one?"

There was still no answer, but he turned around and sat down to wait, anyway. Carefully, he leaned back against the cool metal, mindful of his whipping wounds, and sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He just had to be patient. Any minute now, Ramsay would be down to pester him, if anything, just to mock and tease him, right? And Theon would put up with it if it meant he could at least wet his lips and be sated for another couple of hours. If not, well... he would just put up with that, too. 

Theon got up, deciding he wasn't going to wait around for Ramsay like some needy dog. He set his hand back on the wall and began to follow the flat expanse into the bunker, other hand dragging along the opposite wall to catch the light switch. When he did, he ducked his head to keep from hurting his eyes as the fluorescent lights flickered on, and when he looked up again and squinted, he saw the bunker was relatively the same as the last unfortunate time he'd seen it, only Ramsay had apparently hosed down the floors. 

_How kind of him._

He did feel a little relieved at not having to be subjected to his own blood, sweat, and cum, though, if he was being honest. 

The room's ridiculously-low temperature was getting to him again, and he hugged himself, hands rubbing and squeezing his arms as he wandered around the room, eyes roving over every surface, even the ones that made him cringe. As he scowled at the saltire, he wished Ramsay had left him down here with a blanket like last time, or at least had let him get dressed last night instead of leaving him nude and wrapped only in old bandages. He hoped Ramsay would leave him a blanket or a sweater the next time he came down here. 

As Theon continued wandering around the room while hugging himself, he began to feel a little strange at the thought of the cold clutching at his body, and then there was a growing hint of anxiety creeping into his chest. At this, his hands moved a bit faster on his arms, rubbing them red as his eyes darted around looking for anything even remotely heated to press up against. There was nothing, but he already knew this, he'd been down here before. The anxiety melted into growing dread now, and it started to claw at his insides. His heartrate and breathing quickened some, too, as he turned back and forth, and his mind couldn't help but begin to focus solely on him freezing again. He remembered how that cold had stung him all over, how it had hurt his lungs and bit his skin, how he'd become so tired and weak, how it had taken control of him and left him numb and immobile. He remembered how he couldn't speak or even think, and how everything had gone to darkness and silence. 

That quiet dark had comforted him when he'd been trapped in the tree well and trying to escape, but now it only served to frighten him deeply. He didn't want to die, not anymore...

His heart pounded, and his chest and throat both seemed to tighten up on him, suddenly making it harder for him to breathe. His hurried, pitched breaths echoed in the open room and seemed to mock him as he stumbled around.

"P-please," He hissed at whichever gods would hear him, teeth chattering a mile a minute. He tasted a sharp tang of copper as his tongue was nipped. "Please, don't- don't let me die down here, don't let m-me f-freeze!" 

The stumbling and pacing did little to warm him up, and he just felt like the exhaustion he was beginning to feel was due to the cold taking over his body. He knew it, he knew any minute now he wouldn't be able to feel his fingers and toes anymore –he could barely feel the soles of his feet-, and soon after that his muscles would stiffen and lock up, and he'd no longer be able to move. 

He was certain he was going to die down here, and Ramsay, if he ever came to the bunker again, would find him curled up and blue-white, fingers black and eyes blank and milky as they stared at nothing. He couldn't go like that, not after escaping death the first time, not after all he'd been through, and he just simply wasn't ready, not anymore. 

He soon rushed his way back over to the bunker door, hoping he'd be able to sap up any warmth that might be soaking through it from the basement room, but when he pressed against the metal it was as cold as the rest of the bunker. A frustrated, devastated sob ripped out of his throat and he banged his fists once, twice on the door before stumbling back down the hall and into the main room where his knees buckled under him and he dropped to the floor. Weeping and wheezing softly, he threw his shaky arms out in front of him and dragged his body over to the closest corner. Once there, he rubbed harder at himself to try and swipe off the icy fingers of the cold that were grabbing at him, and even though his skin chafed from the frantic friction, he still couldn't seem to get that feeling to go away.

Theon lay there in his corner, hyperventilating in the dark and hugging himself too tightly, hands rubbing like crazy over his arms. His erratic breathing became too much, though; he blacked out after a few more fast, short breaths, panicking body going slack and still on the floor, hands loosening their hold on his sore, reddened arms. 

When he awoke several hours later, still alive and shivering, head pounding like thunder and chest aching, he didn't know whether to be grateful or devastated. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was nearly two days later, and Ramsay was sprawled across the couch where he was watching some crime drama and feeling bored and a little sleepy. The boys had been over last night and had kept him up later than usual trying to rouse him out of the foul mood he'd been dwelling in ever since Theon had tried to kill him, and he still felt the drowsiness left over from their efforts. 

The booze and joking around had done wonders for him, though, and after a couple of hours he was laughing and drinking alongside his friends, the incident almost completely gone from his mind. Then, he'd spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon sleeping any residual anger off. 

Now, as he lay there on the couch, he felt no more anger towards Theon, only pity and slight annoyance. Pity, because Theon was still trying so pathetically hard to stay  _alive_ , trying so hard to keep his beautiful, loyal Reek from taking over and flourishing. Annoyance, because, well,  _Theon_ was still  _alive_ _, and he very much shouldn't be._

It was a frustrating affair; he hated to admit it, but Theon Greyjoy had been much more resilient than he had given him credit for.

He lay there, deep in thought while the tv yammered on in front of him. The beatings and verbal attacks had been hard on Theon, clearly, and the rape and humiliation had nearly broken him... but despite all that, the boy  _still_ managed to dredge up the strength to run away a second godsdamned time. It was as if everything he'd done had little to no effect at all, and gods, he was starting to lose his patience. 

When he'd met Theon in that café all those months ago, he was sure, so sure, the other man would be weak, that he would be so easily-influenced and quickly broken, but regardless of everything that had happened to him he'd still tried to kill his master and he still fought for his identity and dignity with continuing defiance. 

Just the thought of all that nearly brought him into a rage again, and he had the strong urge to march down there and put a bullet right through that pretty head. Maybe then he could just start over with someone else.

But...

Maybe he didn't have to do that. There were other methods he hadn't really put to use, at least, not often enough, it seemed. 

Theon had been far more receptive to praise and gentle touches and kisses than he had to verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. In fact, that first time he'd hurt him, nearly killed him, even, Theon had practically welcomed Ramsay back with open arms once he was treated to a little vacation and some love-making. After that nonsense, the boy had been so receptive and loving to him. He'd also seen the way Theon had reveled in the praise and affection he'd given him at the hospital, and although the boy was hesitant and conflicted, the kindness had clearly had an effect on him, even if it was just a small amount. 

That counted for something, surely.

Ramsay rolled his eyes at the thought of  _spoiling_ his pet, especially after what had happened and the way the brat's overall behavior had been, but he was running out of options here and might not have any other choice now. Besides, what could the harm really be? The worst that could happen would be that Theon would get comfortable with the kindness and come to expect it, even when he wasn't being a good boy, but such an attitude could easily be fixed with the right training.

It was settled. He'd try this approach to getting rid of Theon and bringing out his Reek, and with any luck it would fare better than all his other, crueler attempts had. All the best dogs  _did_ tend to respond well to positive reinforcement, after all.

He decided maybe it was about time he finally paid a visit to his frustrating little pet, and so he got up from the couch to head into the kitchen where he set a large, deep bowl into the sink and began to fill it with cool water. While the water ran, he headed out to the garage and retrieved a few of the tattered, old dog blankets he'd kept in there. They smelled like animal musk and dust, and they were thin and worn, not exceptionally warm, but he figured they'd do well enough to please Theon. A ratty, weak blanket was better than a freezing-cold floor after all, wasn't it? 

When he got back to the kitchen, the bowl was full and he shut the tap off. With the blankets tucked under one arm, he supported the heavy dish with the other, and carefully made his way down the basement steps and over to the bunker door. Ramsay took a moment to press his ear against the metal and see if he could hear anything from the other side, but there was only silence. He hoped the brat wasn't lying dead from the cold in his own waste or something like some kind of miserable vermin. He opened the door and entered the hall, and right away he was hit with a foul smell, the scent nearly making him think he'd just jinxed himself.

"Eugh, Reek," he grunted, face screwing up. "Will I have to hose you off?"

Ramsay flicked the lightswitch on and stepped into the bunker room, and he started looking around for his Reek after he saw the loose chain and empty collar lying on the floor. The removal of the collar lit a spark of anger within him, but he quickly extinguished it, remembering why he came down here. 

_The point is to kill him with kindness, not a beating, Bolton._

He spotted Theon huddled up against the medical cart in one of the smaller back rooms, shivering and pale, the captive looking near-catatonic as he was approached. "Reek?" Ramsay called to him, setting the blankets and water bowl down.

Dull, green eyes looked up at him through pale lashes before closing shut. The boy huddled in on himself more and tried to bury his face under his thinning arms. 

It had only been two days, but Theon was filthy; there was shit, dried piss, and general grime on him, and he was coated in new and dried sweat despite the chill. The bandages he still wore were grayed and sullied, peeling away off the sweat-slicked skin, and they'd need to be changed or else there'd be in infection or two- if it hadn't already started. And, finally, Ramsay noted that there was also what looked like bits of dried, flaky cum on the boy's thighs, and the sight caused him to nearly bark a laugh in disbelief. He held it in, though, and managed to retain his grin into a soft, friendly smile. Theon flinched when his captor reached out and petted that greasy mop of hair, but he didn't move away.

"I have something for you, Reek," Ramsay purred, voice sweet as his fingertips moved down to graze along one of Theon's sweat-tacky shoulders. "But first, we have to clean you off. You're disgusting. You smell worse than my father's horses."

Theon didn't seem fazed by the harsh words, only perking up and looking hopeful at 'clean'. Clean meant a bath, and a bath meant warmth and water. "'M- 'Monna get a bath, then?" He rasped.

Ramsay snorted. "No, darling, not yet. Maybe later. No, for now, we'll just use the hose to clean up you and your mess. Here, stand up-"

The bigger man stood first, backing up to give Theon room as he did so, too, albeit with much less steadiness and grace than his captor had had. Theon's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and his arms tried to cover himself, poorly. Ramsay thought the modesty was adorable. He brushed those shy hands aside and took a closer look at the dirty bandages on the boy's body, then straightened up and backed off. "Remove those as best you can. We'll get you all-new wrappings as soon as you're clean. Do your wounds feel like they burn or itch at all?"

Theon shrugged, shaking his head. His voice was soft and scratchy, hardly echoing with how quiet it was. "No, not really. Well, there is itching, but I think it's just from the old bandages."

"Good. I'll prep them again, anyway. Now, start removing them." He watched as Theon started to work at the wraps, and he seemed to have little-to-no trouble getting rid of them, almost making Ramsay wonder just how in the hell they'd managed to stay stuck after all the moisture and filthiness had accumulated on the other man's body. 

When Theon finished, the bandages were tossed aside into a haphazard pile on the floor and he looked up at Ramsay expectantly.

"Stand over there," the captor said, pointing to the dirtiest corner of the room. When Theon did so, Ramsay moved to grab the collar up off the floor, taking a small set of keys from his pocket to unlock it from the chain-leash. He then gathered the old bandages and left the room, bringing the collar back upstairs and setting it by the sink, making a mental note to clean it later. Once that was done, he got some towels from the laundry room and a large med-kit from under one of the sinks, then went back down where he grabbed the coiled garden hose resting atop some boxes. 

Theon was still in the corner, huddled and shivering when he brought the hose in, and the boy still hadn't moved after he'd gone back to the basement room to turn the knob on. Ramsay chuckled as he noticed Theon's near-entranced stare at the water dribbling from the hose's spray nozzle, eyes wide and glassy like the drops were hypnotizing him.

"Thirsty?" He asked, bending to pick up the nozzle. Theon nodded quickly, absently licking his dry, cracked lips. He did look a bit gaunt and dehydrated, and gods, Ramsay wanted so badly to put the nozzle on full-blast and spray him right in the mouth just for laughs. Instead, he nodded and got a regular spray going, starting to rinse off the filthy floor at Theon's feet. "You'll get a drink, don't worry. I've brought you some water fresh from the kitchen sink."

Theon flinched at the icy liquid splashing at his legs, and by the way he was shivering and stepping back it was clear he wasn't at all looking forward to getting doused with it, but Ramsay knew the boy would behave if it meant he could get a drink from that bowl. He saw those green eyes giving it a longing look from across the room, and then at the pile of old blankets, too. 

"This is going to sting. Deep breath," Ramsay said as he started to spray the water on Theon's legs, smiling just a tad as he watched the boy gasp and jolt. 

"I-Is there a w-warmer setting?" Theon asked, shuddering and wincing as the water washed over his lower half. 

"No, unfortunately. Hold still."

"And-and I can't just get a bath or a shower?"

"And have you mucking up my floors and bathroom? No, no, no, darling. This will do for now."

Theon frowned and bit his lip, looking down at the floor. "Sorry, 'couldn't help it... I felt sick and..."

Ramsay quirked a brow as he raised the nozzle upward, putting most of his focus into cleaning the whipping wounds adorning the smaller man's body. "And  _what_ , Reek? Open your arms, hold them at your sides. Yes, thank you."

"I felt scared. Of the cold." The ginger's voice was hard to hear over the spray of the water, and it almost sounded as if he was embarrassed by what he'd just said. Ramsay didn't mock him, but he did find the comment interesting. 

"Head down. Thank you. Turn around." He continued washing Theon with the hose, gradually rinsing him clean. After a minute, he asked, "So you're afraid of the cold, now? Am I to assume that started with your near-freezing to death?"

Theon nodded. "Yes."

Ramsay didn't say anything more, only raised a brow and continued his task. Yes, that new fact was very interesting, and he pondered on it a bit.

A short while later, Theon was thoroughly rinsed off. The boy stood there in the soaked corner and shook hard, pale skin covered in goosebumps, and the sounds of his teeth chattering echoed a tad throughout the room.  He stayed there as Ramsay went to shut the hose off, and when the other man came back he grabbed one of the large, fluffy towels that was brought down earlier. Ramsay started to rub Theon down with the towel, surprisingly mindful of each of the whipping wounds, and as he dried, he noted how the ginger sighed and closed his eyes at the warming friction against his skin. 

"Um, so, so did you bring me any clothes?" Theon asked. He was relieved to be clean, even if he was terribly cold, but the towel on his skin was doing wonders to start warming him up. 

"No. Only the blankets. I'll bring you a sweater or something soon, alright?" He ruffled and scrubbed the towel over Theon's drenched hair, humming softly.

Theon was about to ask why 'soon' rather than now, but he reminded himself he wasn't getting out of the bunker faster by asking a million questions, so he shut himself up. Ramsay noted that there seemed to be one of those question on the boy's tongue, but he let it go, figuring it was something to do with more clothes. 

The ginger was dried off and finally released from his bath corner, only to be stopped once again by a med-kit-wielding Ramsay, who said, "Don't forget your new bandages, Reek!"

"Oh, right... er, shouldn't we let the wounds air out a bit?" Theon asked, absently itching at the red marks the previous bandages had left behind. The itch the last ones had caused had been near-hellish, and he had little scratch marks all over the surrounding areas.

"They've aired out plenty for now, hell, they were even rinsed. But I want to get that medicine on them, and I don't want to risk any of it being wiped off or anything. Don't worry, I promise we'll get these off of you soon enough. Then, you can air out your wounds all you like." The kit was popped open and set down, and Ramsay gathered his gear and started to get to work. 

Theon wasn't exactly thrilled about having itchy, sticky bandage wrappings all over his body again, but he wasn't going to argue. He didn't know if he had any infections brewing, and he wasn't going to stop Ramsay's efforts of keeping him healthy.

"Darling," Ramsay spoke up again after a long, quiet moment. "I have a question for you."

"Yes...?"

"Did you masturbate while you were down here?" He felt Theon tense up underneath his fingers and he saw the boy's hand repeatedly clench out of the corner of his eye.  a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I did. I... but it wasn't for pleasure. I thought it would keep me warm..."

_Ah_. Ramsay glanced up at him, amusement and interest in his blue eyes. "And did it?"

Theon's cheeks were a faint pink. He shook his head. "Only for a moment. I was so cold, I thought it would help-"

"I know," Ramsay said, applying the last bandage. He stood up and cupped Theon's face in his hands, ignoring the way the captive winced slightly at the contact. "But you'll be warmer now. And hey, don't stop touching yourself on my account. You may be under punishment, but I won't stop you from at least a little pleasure."

Theon seemed more embarrassed by that than pleased, and he looked away, the pink on his cheeks deepening some.

Ramsay released the ginger's face and stepped back, hand sweeping in a gesture towards the bowl of water on the floor. "Now, you're very thirsty, correct? We should probably stop delaying and start getting you hydrated!"

Theon eyed the water and blankets that sat away from him, but he didn't move from where he stood, and Ramsay noted the hesitation, unsure if it was due to fear or suspicion. Perhaps both? Whichever it was, he liked it, and he liked the slight patience and restraint the hesitancy caused. 

"Go on," he said, nodding towards the treats. "No tricks. Get your fill. Don't drink too fast, though, or you'll puke, remember? I've told you that before."

Theon gave him an unsure glance, but he nodded and stepped over to the dish and blankets on the floor. He kept peeking back at Ramsay with a wary eye, even as he lowered himself down to his knees in front of the water bowl, but after another moment of uncertainty, he finally set his palms down on either side of the bowl and leaned down to try and lap up the liquid like a dog.

Ramsay's eyes lit up at the sight, and his grin went from ear to ear before settling down into an amused smile. He took a few languid steps over to where his captive was and noticed the look of embarrassment on the boy's face despite being able to finally quench that thirst of his. He sat down, not missing the wince Theon gave as he did so, and leaned in a bit closely to speak to him.

"Why are you doing that, Reek?" 

Theon glanced up at him from the corner of his eye, briefly, water dripping from his cracked lips as he quietly asked, "Doing what, Rams?"

"Drinking like that. Like a dog."

Theon inhaled and kept his stare in the water dish. He didn't want to tell Ramsay that it was because he thought it was the 'right' thing to do, that it was something that might keep Ramsay from letting him freeze again and dry out again.

"Um," He started, unsure. "I just... thought it was a good idea?"

Ramsay nodded slowly and reached out to stroke the wet, red curls. "Yes. Very good, Reek. You drink up, I'll make a little bed for you, hm?" He stood and gathered the blankets, then proceeded to make the thin, flimsy bed for his pet. He patted the old sheets and smiled. "Here you are, love, all yours."

The red-head was reluctant to leave his precious water for even a moment, but the offer of warmth, no matter how small the amount, was far too tempting, so he crawled over to the weak nest and settled down into his bedding. The ecstasy of it was clear as day on his face when those green eyes closed and a heavy sigh escaped his lungs. He perked up when the water bowl was passed back over to him, and he didn't try to pull away when one of those heavy hands settled back into his hair to pet him again, too distracted by his gifts.

Ramsay watched Theon while he drank, enjoying the quiet moment with his ex. It was good to see him like this, and maybe it was still due to fear more than anything else, but he did seem just a tad more receptive than he had been. Perhaps the route of kindness was the way to go? Of course, though, he'd still go about instilling the right amount of fear in his pet when he needed to; kindness may lead to good behavior, but it could also very well lead to laziness and entitlement. That was not going to happen, he was sure, not on his watch. 

Theon wasn't too upset about the company, either. It may have been Ramsay Bolton sitting next to him, petting his hair, and humming soft songs, but it was better than having no one there at all. It got so lonely down here in the bunker, and the isolation sometimes made him think and hear strange things. With Ramsay here, things were quiet, and he found himself grateful for the company right alongside everything else he'd been given today.

It wasn't until nearly all the water was gone from the bowl when Ramsay finally stood up from the floor and moved to gather his towels and hose. When a clearing throat behind him caught his attention, he turned around, brow raised. "Yes, Reek?"

"Could I... before you go, could give me more water? Um, please?" Theon seemed a little shy about asking, but he'd kept his eye-contact. Ramsay made a note to make sure that was kept to a minimum in the future.

"I suppose so. Don't drink it all right away, now." Ramsay took the bowl from Theon and headed out of the bunker. After a few minutes, he came back, much to Theon's visible relief, and set the dish down in front of him. "Be good. I'll see you later, darling."

Theon gave a quick nod, then rolled over and wrapped the top blanket tighter around himself. He mumbled something that sounded like a reluctant ' _thank you_ _'_ under his breath, and it made the other man smirk, slight smugness taking over his features.

"Get some rest, Reek. You look very tired." Ramsay lingered a moment longer, then finally moved to leave, shutting off the bunker lights and then heading out the entrance, bringing it closed and locking it after. When he got back upstairs, he set the towels in the laundry, then snatched up the collar to clean it at the living room coffee table. It wasn't too dirty, just a little grimy and damp, so it would be an easy fix. Hopefully, Theon would learn to respect his gifts better after this. 

He really did spoil the boy, but so far, his generosity had gone under-appreciated. He was sure, though, that that would change soon enough, he just had to be patient.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon was huddled and shivering under his blankets, the thin material doing a poor job of keeping his body heated. They had prevented him from having any more panic attacks, at least, they mostly had, so he appreciated them well enough for that. 

If only the other man had given him clothes to wear... But at least, what he was given was better than nothing, right? They weren't much, but the blankets  _did_ keep him from freezing to death, and he was honestly grateful to Ramsay about that. He shouldn't start wishing for this or that, as it wouldn't do him any good, and, well, if Ramsay found out, he might think Theon ungrateful and decide to take away the only warmth he had.

No. No, things could be worse like they were when he first got down here, so he had to be appreciative of at least this. And... maybe if Ramsay saw just how appreciative he was of the blankets, he'd bring more down, or even clothing he could wear? If he was really lucky, he could maybe get a space heater.

One thing Theon couldn't help wishing for, though, was more water. His little well had gone dry a while ago, how long, though, he wasn't sure anymore. He just knew it was too long a time as he'd started to feel weak and a little sick. 

His head hurt, and his skin was dry and it itched, too, so much so that he finally removed all his bandages to try and help ease the awful sensation, but that had only helped a little. His mouth felt like a desert and his throat was rough and burning at even the slightest movement of the muscles. Mostly, though, he just wanted to sleep, and he did, spending most of his hours passed out on the sheets, waking up every time with hope that he'd find his water dish full only to discover it was still empty.

Where was Ramsay? Didn't he say he was going to come back? It felt like it had been so long since Theon had seen him last, almost like he'd never came down here at all. At this point, the boy was beginning to think he had just imagined Ramsay's visit, had just imagined the cool water quenching his first thirst, and was now also imagining the blankets he was resting in.

There was a tinge of dread that followed the thought of possible madness taking over him, and if he were able to cry he probably would have, but he could barely blink right, let alone produce any number of tears.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity to the little Greyjoy, he heard the locks clicking free and the bunker door being hauled open. The noises made his heart flutter with weak happiness, and even the sing-songing call of, ' _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek_ ' felt like music to his ears at this moment. Whether or not this was some cruel hallucination, he didn't care, he was going to at least be grateful for the company, something he almost needed more than the water and warmth. It was so agonizingly lonely down here, and that loneliness, that miserable isolation, probably only served to make his possible madness worsen. 

_Please... I don't want to be alone... I don't want to die alone..._

The sing-songing continued, growing louder, and he tried to call out to the ghost of his captor but any sounds other than a tiny, dry rasp died in his throat. The lights flickered on and his sore eyes burned, but there was relief in those dulled, green orbs as he saw Ramsay rounding the corner and coming towards him. Weakly, he reached out, a pale hand clawing pathetically at the air and shaking with the effort to be held up. 

"Reek?"

Ramsay sat down in front of him now, a strong, warm hand taking his own delicate, cool one in its gentle grasp. The name was called out to him again, and he wanted to answer, but no sounds would come out, and even if they could, he wasn't sure his dried-out brain could come up with anything even remotely comprehensible. He could barely think.

"Reek, my poor darling," Ramsay cooed, leaning down to pull the ginger up into his lap where he was held close and his greasy, stringy hair was brushed from his eyes. It was all strangely comforting; Ramsay looked like an angel from this perspective, the fluorescent lights glowing behind him like a halo. Maybe this was it. Maybe he finally  _had_ died, and for real this time. He was a lucky boy, wasn't he? Getting to die twice in nice, painless ways...

He blacked out in his captor's lap, waking only briefly to see stairs and a tiled floor moving beneath them, and then again to find that now he was looking at the cool, white porcelain his head was resting against while the sound of running water thundered in his ears. 

There was a heat underneath him, and he felt it climbing higher and higher on his body, but he couldn't quite register what it was. It was pleasant, though, and it helped him slip into the blackness again.

Throughout the next forty-five minutes, he repeatedly  fell unconscious  and then woke back up, each moment differing f rom the last. One moment had him waking up to a glass pressed to his lips, cool water trickling down his sore, dried throat and dribbling from the corners of his mouth. The next, there were big hands in his hair and on his body, scrubbing and cleaning him, the touch soothing. Another had him realizing he was being carried off somewhere, down a familiar hallway, up a familiar staircase, and then he was being laid down somewhere soft and inviting. There was more water to his lips and a wet rag on his forehead, and then he was drifting back off again, content and grateful.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon woke a long while later to see a dull, evening light pouring in through the window above the bed he was in. 

And not just any bed, he realized, but  _his_ bed. 

His thin fingers reached out to feel and scratch at the material of the sheets underneath him. They were clean, cool, and intact, and the heavy comforter above him was thick and warm, and he actually had a pillow under his head. There were no freezing cement floors and no flimsy, musty blankets. There were no muffled sounds of running water just out of reach in the walls and ceiling, no chains and restraints, no pitch-black darkness all around, no terrible smells, no lonely echoes... there was only him in this safe, soothing bed, and there was only the dusty wood of the vaulted ceiling above him, as well as the faint sunlight creeping through to kiss him. 

Theon was sore and exhausted, and his throat still stung a bit, but... he felt okay. He didn't feel at all like he had when he'd woken up at the hospital, no fear and confusion, no stiffness and dull, numbing pain. Actually, he kind of felt great, both physically and mentally, and though maybe not completely, any start of that feeling was good enough for him. 

He rolled over onto his back with a groan, absently noting that it took a little more effort than normal to do so, and as he did, something tugged annoyingly at him from his middle. He glanced down to see a heavy, over-sized sweater tangled around him, and as he moved his hands to adjust it, he noted he was wearing underwear, too. He couldn't remember the last time he was clothed, it felt like so long ago, but he was happy to finally feel the material of something other than scratchy bandages against his bare skin.

His fingers gently smoothed the sweater over his chest, and he sighed, green eyes drifting upwards as he began to ponder. When did he get up here? Had he done it all on his own? If anything like that had happened in-between the time of now and the time when he last recalled being awake, he didn't remember it. 

He didn't really remember anything, actually; the last thing to catch in his memory was when he was still trapped down in the bunker, sheets dirty and flimsy and water bowl dry as a bone. He had no recollection of escaping all that, and absolutely none of getting himself clean and cozy like this.

Had Ramsay done it? The man  _had_ brought him water and blankets, washed him clean of his filth, and redressed his wounds. Right? The ginger was sure he remembered all that, and he was sure he remembered the soft way Ramsay had spoken to him, the way he'd petted his hair, the way he'd saved him from freezing to death or dying of thirst... Had Ramsay done it again and saved him from another miserable fate? Had his captor really freed him from his prison and brought him back to health, made him feel this way, made him feel well?

Strangely, those thoughts and memories didn't make him cringe, and he didn't feel nauseous and angry, either. He expected to feel disgust curdling in his belly, but all that was there were warm, fluttering feelings, and instead of disappointment in himself he only felt gratefulness towards Ramsay. He nearly couldn't believe it.

A tiny glint of gold from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he tilted his head to look at what it was. On his nightstand, the metal tag of his leather collar gently reflected the sunlight into his face, and he gave it a long, tired look. It appeared freshly-cleaned, brand-new like when he'd gotten it, and there was no dragging, metal chains attached to it, either. 

It looked beautiful in this light. 

With a grunt, he leaned over and reached for it, taking it into his weak grasp and bringing it close so he could better inspect it. Tilting his head up, he sniffed at the leather and closed his eyes at the smell for a moment, then opened them again to see the jingling, metal tag shining above him. 

" _Reek, reek, it rhymes with meek_ ," he whispered up at the name embedded into the front of the tag, voice a soft, thick, groggy rasp. The name didn't stir any feelings of rage or embarrassment inside of him this time. He couldn’t really place the feeling he felt instead, but he didn't let his foggy mind linger on it. 

"Reek," someone called to him from the stairs. They called again. "Reek?"

"... _rhymes with meek_. Peak. Seek. Meek. Rhymes with Reek."

The sounds of the door creaking open and the following footsteps reached his ears, and he glanced over at Ramsay as the other man came striding over to the bed. He looked lovely in this light, and those blue eyes seemed almost white from the way the sun hit them. The man's mouth moved, but it took him a moment to register what was being said to him. 

"Can you hear me? I said, ' _how are you feeling',_ dear."

Theon blinked, then swallowed a few times before answering, "I dunno. 'M okay, I think." 

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," Ramsay sat down on the bed, and Theon started to inch away, but stopped when a calloused hand rested on one of his own. "You found your collar, I see."

Theon nodded, watching Ramsay's thumb stroke along the edge of the leather band. "I did." 

"Would you like to put it on?"

The ginger was a little surprised that he was being asked rather than forced, and he hesitantly nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Um, could you please help me? 'M not very co... coord... er, you know what I mean."

" _Coordinated_. And yes, I'd love to. Here, let me help you up, I'll get behind you." Ramsay slipped one arm under Theon's upper back and carefully lifted him before moving to get behind him. He pulled the slouching boy into his arms and set him in his lap, then began to get the collar fastened.

Theon appreciated the fact that the collar seemed fairly loose this time, and that he was able to breathe and swallow with no trouble. He also especially appreciated the contact of another living being against his body, remembering how terribly lonely and aching he felt down in that bunker by himself for so damn long. When the collar was buckled, those big, warm hands settled on his shoulders and squeezed. He tensed just a bit, but found himself relaxing into the touch after a moment. "Thank you."

Ramsay's voice was a gentle murmur as he spoke, breath brushing up against Theon's ear and the nape of his neck. Goosebumps rose on his skin and small shivers bolted their way up his spine. "I'm glad to see you well, Reek... you were in a terrible state when I brought you up." 

"I was?" Theon croaked.

Arms slid around him, and he felt Ramsay nuzzling just above the scarring whipping wound over his shoulder blades. "You were thin and dry and dirty, wasting away in my arms. So sick, nearly at death's door yet again... But then I took you to safety and got you warmed, hydrated, and taken care of. You've slept so long, and I'm sure that helped, too. Look at you, so strong and resilient, coming back from the grave with only exhaustion and a little dehydration in you."

Theon smiled just a tiny bit. He was strong, wasn't he? It felt good to hear that.

Ramsay plucked Theon off his lap and nestled him back into the sheets, then climbed off the bed. "Let me get you some water. Are you hungry? I can make you some broth if you think you can stomach it."

Food sounded glorious, but the water even more-so to his body's needy state. He agreed to both, and Ramsay headed off down the stairs. 

Theon could hear the heavy footfalls, and he could even hear the muffled sounds of Ramsay in the kitchen, so he knew that the man was still around, but the noises didn't seem to ease the sudden burst of loneliness and anxiety he felt in his chest, and he began to fret a little because of it. 

He didn't think he'd ever realized just how quiet it was up here before, just how big and empty his attic room really seemed. Had his attic always been like this? Theon pulled the sheet up higher onto his chest, hugging it some as he watched the door and listened closely, heart seeming to thud harder against his chest with each second that he was alone.

Theon couldn't do it, the anxiousness was getting to him, and he just couldn't help thinking Ramsay wouldn't show up and he'd end up being left alone and dying once again. 

The lanky ginger climbed out of bed, slowly and unsteadily, but he managed to hobble his way to the attic door. It was hard; he felt tired and weak, but his desperation to be in someone else's company again kept him moving, and he continued one careful step at a time. Just as he was starting down the second flight of stairs, he was greeted by a surprised Ramsay looking up at him. 

"Did you really bring yourself down here?" Ramsay asked.

Theon nodded, taking another step down. "Yes. 'M sorry, I didn't want to be alone..."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Ramsay's lips, and he reached up and offered a hand to the struggling man. "I see. Well, come here to me, we'll get you settled on the couch. Will that be better?"

"Yes," Theon huffed, relieved that he'd be around someone else again, out in the open and not isolated to one place, even if said place was his bed upstairs. He took Ramsay's hand and made his way down to him, and then he was led over to the living room couch. He watched as Ramsay bustled around, fluffing and setting some pillows before readying a blanket for him. 

"There," Ramsay said, draping the blanket over Theon as the smaller man lay down onto the cushions. "I'll get you your water."

When he came back, he sat himself on the coffee table and helped Theon to slowly sip at the cup of water until he went to get a refill. It wasn't long after that that the broth was finally done, and he brought that in, too, serving it to Theon once it was cool enough. His captive finished once the bowl was mostly-empty, and when the dishes were done he came back to settle into his chair next to the couch. 

The two of them sat in companionable silence the rest of the time, and soon Theon had drifted back off to sleep while Ramsay continued watching the television.  _This wasn't so bad_ , the Bolton son thought. He hadn't liked playing nursemaid for Theon, bad, mean Theon, but he found that he didn't really mind it much when it was being done for Reek. His lovely, sweet Reek.

He glanced over at the gold tag resting on the sleeping man's pale collarbone, and Ramsay smiled with endearment at the sight.


	16. Shiny Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit brief and kinda filler-y, so my apologies. The next chapter will be much more "exciting", ha, I'm just trying to figure out how long it should be and whether or not a certain part should go into the chapter after that instead.   
> Anyway, hope you like it, even if it's not much at the moment. Thanks for reading! <3

Theon wore his collar every day for the whole five days since he'd had it put on. He took it off for baths, of course, and sometimes while he slept, but other than that the collar stayed put. It was still heavy, and sometimes it could feel a little too tight, but he was quickly getting used to it being there and found that he really didn't mind it so much anymore. Most of the time, he forgot he even had it on, and when he did end up reminded of its presence it felt oddly-comforting more than degrading.

Ramsay seemed to be quite pleased by this recent development, as his eyes would light up and stare at the sight of the collar whenever he saw it still jingling away on Theon's neck. He would often smile brightly, too, and Theon liked when that happened because those smiles would melt into something like affection- even  _heated_ affection. The little ginger was also glad to see those smiles weren't like the demented, intimidating ones Ramsay had often had, the ones he'd usually seen whenever he'd gotten himself into trouble. The last one of those he remembered was the infuriated, terrifying grin he saw on his ex's face just after he'd tried to kill him, and the mere thought of that memory always made him tremble. 

These smiles lately, though, were different, and they brought him good memories, ones he often thought about when he was doing his chores or sitting alone –something that still made him anxious, even though he hadn't been to the bunker in days.

Theon tried to keep his thoughts on anything but the bunker and the time he'd spent there down in the cold and dark, but he couldn't help but be curious about just how long he'd spent trapped in that room. Ramsay wouldn't tell him, always changing the subject or just straight-up rejecting his questions whenever he'd tried to ask. A tiny part of him was sure he wouldn't really want to know anyway, so he'd quickly stopped pestering about it and let it be. 

Besides, as Ramsay had once answered, it mattered more that he'd made it out alive at all.

Even after he had stopped the pesky questioning, he still managed to be a bit of a nuisance to the other man, or at least, he felt like he was behaving that way. Ramsay could hardly make it out of his sight or out of ear-shot without Theon starting to panic and needing to look for him, so now whenever Ramsay couldn't be around, the three girls were employed to keep him company. Theon didn't mind that at all, in fact it helped to raise his mood significantly, and he felt like he was feeling better because of them and how distracted they usually kept him. 

Ramsay had even been kind enough to grant him permission to take the girls on walks around the property if he so pleased, and there were quite a few times that week where he'd taken advantage of that privilege. 

The still-cold weather and snow everywhere hadn't bothered him much, not as long as he'd efficiently bundled himself up before hand, and he didn't go much further than the edge of the open field or to the mailbox by the road, anyway. 

There was one walk he took on Thursday where he'd attempted to follow the girls out into the tree line, but once he got passed the first couple of pines, he'd started to panic and ran right back out, going straight home. He'd loved those pines, loved the dark, peaceful quiet of those woods, but now he couldn't get close to them without feeling like his heart was wanting to burst out of his chest or feeling like he was going to pass out, so he stayed far and away from the forest. He had no reason to be in there anyway, really. 

But maybe, when things had warmed up and spring had finally arrived, he'd be willing to take that chance and head back in there again? He certainly hoped so. He missed it terribly.

For now, though, Theon was content with only going for the close walks or just staying inside where it was both warmer and safer. 

He was sat on the floor with the girls, nose and cheeks still apple-red from the stroll around the yard he'd just taken, and he watched the television with only half-interest. The part of his focus that wasn't on the tv show was on Ramsay and wondering when he'd finally be home since the other man was still toiling away at work. 

Before, when things were more...terrifying and uncertain, Theon had always counted the hours with dread until the Bolton son had gotten home, praying that Ramsay would get into an accident or finally be arrested, or just have  _something_ that would happeninstead of him walking through the front door again. Now, though, Theon just sat around waiting impatiently and actually missing his captor's company, sometimes pacing around in circles or watching the door like a lonely house pet. 

There was still just the tiniest hint of dread in his belly, though, whenever those heavy footsteps creaked on the porch outside because he always fretted in the back of his mind that Ramsay would come home angry and punish him for something he had no part in. Things like that used to happen all the time, and he still had some of the scars to remind him of those events, so he couldn't exactly shake that bit of fear that always nibbled at away at him. 

But, that feeling of dread wasn't nearly as strong as his feelings of isolation and longing, and so it was almost always ignored in favor of the excitement and relief he felt whenever he saw Ramsay coming home.

Theon had initially wanted to be weirded out by that, by his changes in how he was feeling, but as the week went on he'd simply just gotten used to being that way, and chalked most of it up to his growing loneliness. The girls made for great company, but they couldn't speak or understand him, and, well, they just weren't Ramsay. 

It felt like forever had passed when the door finally opened behind him, and he perked right up and looked towards the entryway. "Rams?" 

"It's me," Ramsay grunted. He sounded irritable and exhausted, and Theon moved a little closer to Helicent, slipping an arm around her thick neck and pulling her in for a hug.

"What's wrong?" The ginger asked, watching Ramsay set down his work items and kick off his shoes a little more aggressively than was necessary. He winced.

Ramsay sighed and undid his tie, tossing the strip of cloth to the floor in annoyance. "It's the stupidest thing- we hired some old cunt to do filing work at dad's office, and of course  _I'm_ the one being forced to do her training, but it's near impossible to get anything through her thick, stubborn skull! I swear, Roose must think this is so damn funny, watching me bumble around the office with that absolutely incompetent bitch, and then having to be  _kind_ about it while I do so..."

Theon gave a tiny, relieved exhale; it wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. 

When Ramsay came in like that with his noticeably-foul mood, he had expected to be marched in on and struck or yelled at, just like the times before, but instead the other man simply seethed and pouted, hands clenching at his sides rather than around Theon's throat. 

After another moment of letting Ramsay seethe there in the entryway, Theon hesitantly let go of Helicent and stood up. He pulled and fretted at the too-long sleeves of his oversized sweater as he stepped over to the other man to take hold of one of those big hands. He felt Ramsay's questioning stare on him as he pulled his ex towards the chair, and again when he had him sit on the floor rather than in the seat. 

Ramsay tensed a little, wary gaze peeking back over his shoulder at Theon as the red-head crawled into the chair behind him. "What are you up to, Reek?"

"Nothing, I just... I dunno, I thought maybe this might help you feel better, you know?" He reached out and set his hands onto Ramsay's shoulders, squeezing, shy at first but then a little stronger, and it got the other man to understand him now. "I apologize in advance, I might not be very good."

Ramsay couldn't help the little smirk he gave. "Don't apologize, darling, your thoughtfulness and attempt at effort are doing wonders to soothe me already. Thank you, Reek."

Theon bit his lip and nodded, belly warming a little at the remark. It felt good to hear that. Being thanked instead of hit was such a pleasant surprise, really, and he knew he wanted more good surprises like that. "You're welcome, Rams."

The captor took off his shirt and undershirt, then bowed his head forward and closed his eyes as Theon's thumbs began to dig into his bared traps, and the groan-y sigh he gave made Theon's stomach do a little flip. It felt nice being able to please the other man like this. He liked making Ramsay happy.

The two of them sat there for a while as Theon tried his best at massaging Ramsay's tense, knotted muscles in his back and shoulders, with the living room comfortably-quiet minus the occasional sigh and groan from Ramsay or sleepy grunt from one of the dogs. 

Theon felt at peace the entire time as he concentrated on what his hands were doing and on the way Ramsay was feeling, contented by every relieved and pleasured sound falling from the bigger man's lips. The way those shoulders started to fall and the way that posture started to loosen and slacken was so damn satisfying. He felt like he was taming a beast, and though he was inexperienced, whatever he was doing seemed to be working like magic.

They were done when nearly an hour had passed, and Theon's sore hands were grateful for the rest. He himself was grateful for the warm, sleepy smile and look of appreciation he got from Ramsay as the other man stood up and stretched and rolled his happy muscles. 

"Thank you so very much for that little treat, Reek," Ramsay purred, slipping his undershirt back on. "You knew just what your master needed, didn't you?"

_Master_ _?_ That word gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

He nodded.

"My Reek, such a good boy," Ramsay reached out and petted Theon on the head, fingers scritching into those curly red strands. The boy leaned into the touch, eyes closing as he nearly purred.

"I just wanted your day to get better. I didn't want you to be mad anymore," Theon quietly said. 

"And look, I no longer am! All thanks to you, Reek. Come, let's get us some dinner, and you can tell me all about your day. Did you go for one of your walks?"

Theon got off the chair and followed Ramsay into the kitchen, the girls trailing along behind him. The four of them sat down on the floor while Ramsay began to gather the items for grilled cheese sandwiches. "I did," Theon said, fingertip tracing one of the tile patterns. "But I didn't go very far again. I just circled around the house, but I did manage to make it to the mailbox. That was all, though. The bills came in, by the way."

Ramsay ignored the last part, having already seen the familiar envelopes on the counter. He buttered a slice of bread and quirked an eyebrow. "That's all? I thought you were going to try to go into the woods again like you did on Thursday, or walk a little farther down Dreadfort Road?"

Theon shook his head and sounded a little sheepish, "No... I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it. I wanted to, but then I remembered how I felt on Thursday, how scared I got and all, and I couldn't make myself do it."

Ramsay tutted and the simple noise brewed a feeling of shame in Theon's belly. 

"I'm sorry, Rams," He murmured.

"Don't be sorry to me, only be sorry to yourself for that one. You'll never succeed if you don't  _try_ , Reek. You're braver than that, aren't you?"

"Well... well, yeah, but I just get so scared, Ramsay-"

" _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with weak..._ " Ramsay sing-songed as he started frying the first sandwich.  

Theon felt the burn of tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he swallowed thickly. It hurt to hear that, but he knew Ramsay was right, and he had no one to blame but himself for his cowardice. 

The rest of the dinner preparation continued in silence, at least, on Theon's end it did, while Ramsay rambled on about his own day, venting on about work and his fellow employees, about how little his own father respected him, the usual, and it continued well into the actual meal. 

Theon sat on the floor and quietly ate from his dish beside the girls and their own food while Ramsay sat at the table, talking and eating away despite the lack of responses he was getting.

Theon had tuned out a while ago, unable to focus on much more than his self-deprecation over not being able to walk more than passed the stupid mailbox earlier today. Ramsay must have been so annoyed to hear that... the man had worked so hard to get Theon back on his feet and back to health, and yet he won't even try to make real progress. How can he ever expect to leave the property if he can't conquer his damn fears? 

There was a stirring of guilt as he realized how annoyed Ramsay must be at having to be the only useful, productive one around the house. That pang of guilt worsened as it hit him just how  _disappointed_ Ramsay must be with him.

When Ramsay reached down to collect his empty dish a few minutes later, he latched onto the other man's arm like lightning, startling the both of them with his sudden action. After an awkward moment, he stammered, "Walk with me."

Ramsay squinted at him, not understanding.

"Walk with me, tomorrow. You're not working, right? I was thinking, maybe if you come with me, your presence will help me feel better and I won't be so scared?"

Ramsay looked him over for a few long seconds, considering. He thought it was a little pathetic that Theon apparently had to have someone practically holding his hand just to take a damn walk, but he  _did_ like the idea of being needed so badly, and he loved knowing how important he was starting to become to Theon. 

He smiled sweetly, understanding on his face. "Of course, Reek, what a great idea. It's settled, then; you and I will venture out into the woods tomorrow, and if you get scared, I'll be there to save you."

Theon smiled, and all the hurt feelings that had been riled up inside him from their earlier conversation were instantly quelled. He released Ramsay's arm and quickly took the plate from him, rising up from the floor. "Thank you so much, Ramsay. Here, let me do those, okay? You should go relax more, you had that long day."

Ramsay grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Another excellent idea from you, Reek. You're just brimming with them tonight, aren't you?"

Theon laughed softly and shrugged. "I guess I just got lucky with those."

"Very." Ramsay stood and stretched, grunting, then started heading into the living room. "When you're done, you may come and watch tv with me."

"Okay." Theon set to work on filling the sink, excited about tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

Ramsay did have the entire day off, but they hadn't tried going out for the walk until well into mid-afternoon. It was a little warmer then, and the sun was shining, so Theon thought it might be best to go at that time. Ramsay didn't really care when they did it, honestly.

When the sun was bright in the clear sky and there was the slightest bit of warmth in the air, Theon finally set foot out onto the porch, bundled up in two huge, heavy sweaters and large, baggy sweatpants that all seemed to hang off his gradually-shrinking frame. There was a big, cozy scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face, an old ushanka to keep his head warm, and big boots and thick socks to keep his feet safe. He was good to go! 

...Now, if only he still had a proper set of gloves. 

He'd lost his last pair after he'd nearly froze to death, and they didn't have any decent spares lying around, at least, Ramsay said they didn't, so he had to go with the fingerless gloves they'd found in the garage. During the week, he'd been borrowing Ramsay's set, but today he didn’t want to be selfish and needy, so he didn't pester his captor about using his, instead opting to go with the weaker pair even if they didn't protect his fingertips. Oh well, at least he could tuck his fingers away under the long, baggy sweater sleeves, so really, it wasn't a big deal to him, but it did make his heart beat a little faster when the dry, cool air nipped at the spot where his right pinky used to be as he stepped outside. 

He slid his hands deeper into the sleeves and tucked his arms up around himself into a tight hug. 

"Come, Reek!" Ramsay said, dressed in all black with his sweater, jeans, jacket, and boots, light and simple as if the cold didn't bother him any. Which, it didn't. Theon envied him. Ramsay whistled for the girls, too, and then the five of them were on their way off the porch and into the yard, trekking through the snow.

"It didn't snow last night. I think that's good." Theon murmured, eyes on the white blanket crunching under his boots.

"It's very good, Reek. That extra snow won't be there to hinder us while we try to make progress with you!" 

Theon watched as Ramsay trudged ahead, already gaining distance between them. The girls were well out of sight by now, but he could hear their excited barking ringing faintly from somewhere within the tree line. He tried to move faster to catch up with Ramsay, already breathing a little harder from the effort with having to put forth even a little more physical exertion than normal. 

It was getting harder to be more active, he realized, and he fretted a bit at how out of shape he must be. Ramsay wouldn't like that, it would look so lazy... maybe he'd think Theon wasn't doing enough around the house while he was out? Or that he wasn't actually going for his walks, or-

"Reek! Catch up, would you, darling?" Ramsay laughed, the air fogging up in front of him. He was nearly at the tree line. How did he get there so fast?

"Oh! Sorry, Rams, sorry," Theon muttered, forcing himself to rush over. He was clumsy as he ran in the almost-knee-deep snow, and he looked like a newborn baby deer, especially when his feet caught on each other and he tripped, landing face-first with a cloud of snowflakes blowing up all around him. He heard Ramsay bark a loud, sharp laugh, and he winced, the heat in his cheeks probably enough to melt some of the snow around his face. The biting cold, though, was not even remotely amusing to him, and he quickly shoved himself up, standing and brushing as much of the powder off as he could.

He fixed the scarf over his neck and face, hiding himself up passed his nose, his cheeks red from both the embarrassment and chill, and he chose to briskly walk the rest of the way over to grinning Ramsay.

"Thanks for that, Buster Keaton."

"I tripped..."

Ramsay rolled his eyes, tone a bit sarcastic. "Yes, Reek. I saw that."

Theon ignored the sarcasm, eyes now on the pines rather than Ramsay's grin. Those snow-heavy, deep-green branches looked so menacing right now when they once used to look beautiful and calming. He frowned, fingers gripping at the insides of his sleeves.

Ramsay saw the hesitation and his expression changed into a more placid one. He reached over and pulled at Theon's arm, but the limb wouldn’t budge from its surprisingly-tense hold around the smaller man's chest. Ramsay grunted, thinking. After a moment, he stepped a little closer to Theon and spoke gently, "Would you like me to carry you in there, Reek? You can ride on my back if it would make you feel better."

Theon looked to Ramsay now, some of the light coming back into his eyes. A shy smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Are you sure? Is that okay?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if it wasn't. Here," Ramsay turned and crouched down, offering his back to Theon. The ginger looked down at him, hesitant again, but only for a moment before he carefully climbed onto Ramsay and held tightly to him.

"I hope I'm not too heavy?"

Ramsay scoffed. "Reek, you're almost light as a feather. I carried Theon when he was practically fat, you have nothing to worry about."

Without further ado, Ramsay stood and began marching them into the trees, and Theon shrunk against the other man's back instantly, heart pounding in his chest and eyes going wide. He clung tighter to his captor, shoulders drawing up beside his face, and he huddled more into his scarf, scared eyes peeking out and darting around. He probably looked like a child being carried around by his father through a haunted house, and the thought made him feel absolutely ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. 

Ramsay didn't seem to mind too much, not even when Theon hugged him tighter. He just kept walking through the snow and pines, taking careful steps so as not to get caught up on any hidden roots or rocks. He sang, too, soft and raspy, voice carrying in the cold, quiet air. 

Ramsay's calm and focus were starting to help relax Theon some, and soon the boy was less tense and wary as they walked along, even appreciating some of the scenery that passed by them.

"Did you see those baby foxes?" Theon asked, his timbre holding a bit of excitement. 

"Yes, I did," Ramsay chuckled. "Their hair was nearly as red as yours."

Theon smiled a little under his scarf and nuzzled some against Ramsay's neck and shoulder. The older man was strong and warm, and he smelled just as good and familiar as these pines and the clean snow did. He could kind of feel Ramsay's ribs expanding and shrinking with each breath against his front, and he was sure if the layers of their clothing weren't in the way he could feel the other man's pulse against his arm, too. 

Every bit of this was reassuring; they were alive and well despite the cold, despite all the snow and quiet, despite all the isolation. The two of them were doing just fine, and Ramsay's presence alone was enough to make him feel something close to safe and sound out here. He even dared to close his eyes and rest his head on Ramsay, letting himself doze off a little while they wandered. 

He awoke when their movement came to a stop and Ramsay shifted a bit, jostling him slightly. Grunting, he lifted his head and blinked slowly. "Whassat, Rams?"

Ramsay started to loosen his hold on Theon's legs. "Time to get down, sweetheart."

"Oh-" Theon gingerly set his legs down into the snow, and after another second or two, he finally let go of Ramsay's shoulders, but his arms immediately went back to hugging himself. He wriggled his legs a bit to try and wake up the tingly nerves and looked around, gaze a little wary. They were in some open area he didn't recognize, but it looked like a small glade, and the sun gently shined down on them through the tops of the pines while they stood there in the untouched snow. It was... lovely. He wondered what it looked like in the summer time.

Ramsay gave a slight groan as he stretched his aching muscles and rolled his shoulders a few times. He then looked at Theon for a minute, watching him and trying to read him. The boy appeared afraid at first, but then he seemed to be in awe of his surroundings, and the quick change made Ramsay snicker. He really was like a dog, so easily distracted. Adorable. "You alright there, Reek?"

"Huh?" Theon looked to Ramsay now, nodding. "Oh, yes, sorry. It's nice out here. It doesn't seem so scary, and I can see and feel the sun. I like it."

"I knew you would." Ramsay stepped closer to Theon until they were only mere inches apart, and he noticed the way the smaller man shrunk just a little and looked anywhere but at his eyes. "You know, you look very beautiful out here right now, Reek." 

Theon watched Ramsay remove one of his gloves, and then he felt that big, warm hand reach up to caress his cool cheek. He flustered at the compliment and the contact, eyes darting a bit. "What, uhm, what do you mean, Rams?"

"Your eyes," The Bolton son answered, voice laced with soft admiration. "They look like peridots in this light. Do you know what peridots are, Reek?"

Theon nodded hesitantly, sounding unsure of his answer. "Yes. Gemstones, right?"

Ramsay smiled. "Very good, Reek."

Theon beamed under the praise and finally looked into Ramsay's own eyes, slight awe in his tone as he said, "And yours... they look like, um. Like aquamarines? Not like sapphires because those are too dark, but like aquamarines, you know? Very blue and clear, like ice."

A soft chuckle, warm breath ghosting Theon's appled cheeks. "We are very valuable then, aren't we? You, especially."

Theon huffed a shy laugh, and the pink on his cheeks seemed to deepen. He looked down at the snow and shook his head, bashful. "No, no..."

"Oh, yes you are!" Ramsay slipped his arms around Theon's middle and pulled him close until their fronts were pressed together. He smiled softly and spoke lower, more intimately, as he said, "I only choose the best. You, my dear, are the best. My perfect little Reek with the peridot eyes."

The little ginger couldn't believe what he was hearing, and it showed in the surprised and flattered expression all over his face. "Really? You think that about me, Rams?"

"Oh, yes. I didn't before; Theon was beautiful, but he was a disobedient, disrespectful wretch. You, though,  _Reek_ , are gorgeous, and you're such a good boy, so lovely and sweet, aren't you?"

"Yes," Theon nodded, happiness dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I am, Ramsay!"

"And that is why you're perfect, and mine."

Ramsay's gaze lingered on Theon for a moment longer before his head tilted and he leaned to press his lips against Theon's in a soft kiss. The little captive melted instantly, his knees buckling some, and if it weren't for Ramsay's hold on him, he was sure he would have collapsed into the snow.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, the bigger man's lips caressing his own and warming him all over, and he was hit with a feeling of nostalgia as it reminded him of the kisses they used to share back when Ramsay still called him 'Theon', back when he used to say that name without so much hatred.

It was... strangely lovely. Romantic, even, and Theon found himself getting light-headed and breathless. Just a few weeks ago, maybe a little longer, he would have been recoiling in discomfort and heartbreak, but now, he couldn't help leaning in and feeling grateful for the intimate gesture. 

When Ramsay finally pulled back from him, Theon was flustered and blushing deeply, trying and failing hard at restraining the goofy smile breaking out over his face. He looked down at his fidgeting fingers and bit his lip, heart going a mile a minute in his skinny chest. 

Ramsay thought he looked like a big, gushy schoolgirl or something, and it was both punch-able and adorable. Reek tended to have that effect on him. He reached up and brushed some red strands out of his captive's pink face, chuckling.

"You aren't going to pass out on me, are you?" He teased.

Theon laughed shyly and shook his head, apologizing. "No, no, sorry, it's just... I haven't felt like that in a long time. It felt good, Rams."

"I know. I'm glad." 

Gods, it was getting easier and easier these days to please his pet. Hell, one kiss and the boy was practically creaming himself like some harlequin romance heroine! Ramsay wasn't complaining; this was a wonderful development, and he was excited to see how it would continue. His Reek was doing phenomenally well, and it was so great to see that Theon Greyjoy was very nearly dead, those last dregs of that man's existence starting to ebb away like they should have done a long time ago.

"Rams?" 

The soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he blinked once and put his focus back on that questioning expression in front of him. "Yes, Reek?"

"May we go back home? My feet and my fingers feel a little numb." There was a slight tremble to his tone, and Ramsay could see the anxiety building in Theon's eyes as the boy's fear of the cold began creeping back in. 

Ramsay nearly scoffed; how could Theon be cold and numb when he'd been carried around like a child the whole time? Just to spite his pet, he wanted to leave them out there longer and watch that anxiety grow, but, well... his Reek  _had_ actually been a good boy today and yesterday, so he figured he should probably reward that behavior. He could spite him some other time.

"Of course, darling. Tonight, we should bring your blankets down to the living room, and you and the girls can sleep in front of the fire, hm?" 

Theon perked up, and the mere mention of all that heat started to warm him up already. "Oh, that'd be so lovely, thank you."

"Wonderful." Ramsay turned his head to the right and gave a loud, sharp whistle that rang through the silent, snowy woods, and soon the sounds of three happy, noisy cane corsos could be heard in the distance. He turned his attentions back to Theon and took one of those pale, numbed hands in his own, tucking the chilled fingers away in his grasp to warm them as they started to walk.

"I will never let you freeze, Reek." He said, feeling Theon press closer against his side, and he smiled a little to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up in case there's a particularly long delay after this chapter, but I'll be on a much-needed vacation out of state until next Tuesday or so. I'll try to write some during that time, but if not, then I'll just do it when I get home next week. Thanks for your patience! :>


	17. Reek's Day Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, writing for "nice" Ramsay is such a pain in the ass. It's.. frustrating. This has been a frustrating chapter. These last several chapters have been so hard to write for, really, just one task and half after the other, and I've just been getting so unsatisfied, I dunno, I'm totally thrown off or something. Agh.   
> Finally done, though, and I hope you all enjoy it, even just a little bit.  
> (Warnings for a bit of flaying at the beginning, and I guess a bit of dub-con, I'm not sure.)

A little over three and a half months had passed since Theon had been taken out to the glade, and he'd even been back a few times since, each time all on his own. 

Well, he was with the girls when he did it, but still, he figured that counted a whole hell of a lot towards his improvement, regardless of whether or not he was actually ' _alone_ '.

In fact, things had been going fairly well for Theon in general. The little Greyjoy had been doing more chores and helping out around the house, taking care of the girls, treating Ramsay well in all the ways a good pet like him should... His mood was lifting significantly these days. 

He  _did_ get struck or yelled at a few times, but that was only because he'd done something stupid to deserve it, and when that happened, he always made sure to keep it in mind for next time so he could correct himself. 

And sure, sometimes sex with Ramsay hurt a little –or quite a bit-, but that was just the way his lover liked it. He knew Ramsay had always liked it rough, that had always been a constant fact throughout their relationship. Sometimes it got a little  _too_ rough, and Theon ended up crying that night or very sore the next day, sometimes both, but Ramsay couldn't always help it if he got carried away. He's a very passionate man, after all.

Anyway, it wasn't like he was being locked up in the bunker again or tied to the saltire, and it wasn't like Ramsay was really raping him. Right? Things could always be worse. Things could always be like they were when that terrible Theon was around, always getting him into trouble and getting him hurt...

Besides, when he wasn't being clumsy or disrespectful or acting like a lazy idiot, his master was actually very sweet to him, and he was always rewarded for his good behavior. Ramsay also promised him that sometime soon they'd make love and do things slow and careful like how  _he_ likes to do! Ramsay always keeps his promises.

Theon wished that tonight was the night where that promise was fulfilled.

Instead of receiving slow kisses and soft caresses, he found himself with his back against his master's deep red sheets, Ramsay's heavy body on top of him and large hands pinning both his wrists down just above his head. He squirmed in discomfort and pain from the harsh bite marks Ramsay was leaving all over his chest and shoulders, and the way his master's cock fucked into him with those rough, deep thrusts had him gasping and yelping at the barest hint of pleasure and the sharp ache. 

Ramsay stared down at him with a burning intensity, eyes wide and shining in the candle light, and he grunted like an animal with each hard slam into Theon's ass. His nostrils flared as he bared his teeth down at his pet, hissing a sharp breath for a particularly good thrust. "You  _slut_! You fucking slut, you love that, don't you, Reek!"

Theon whimpered as Ramsay's grip on his wrists tightened, and he nodded quickly, wincing. "Y-yes, m'lord, I love it!" 

He did, didn't he? It felt good, kind of, at least, some of those thrusts did, so he  _did_ like it, right?

He gave a relieved groan when one of Ramsay's hands released a wrist, and he brought his sore, bruising limb down to his chest, hugging it close. He closed his eyes to try and focus on the occasional good thrust, and off to his left, he could hear the sounds of Ramsay rummaging around in the nightstand drawer. There was a victorious huff above him, and suddenly his freed wrist was snatched up again and shoved back against the metal bars on the top of the headboard. His other wrist was given the same treatment, and before he knew it, Ramsay was looping a pair of handcuffs around a bar and cuffing both his wrists up. 

Theon grunted and winced, but he didn't struggle. It was uncomfortable, but it was nothing unusual, and he was mostly just surprised the cuffs hadn't been brought out right at the start.

The skinning knife making an appearance into their activities wasn't unusual, either. He didn't like it; he wasn't a pain fanatic like Ramsay, and sometimes the knife cut too deep or too shallow, and the wound would ache or burn too much the next day. He also hated the way the scabs would catch on his clothes or on his blankets, and he'd find blood spots everywhere because of it. 

Not to mention, he wasn't at all a fan of the damn thing ever since he got 'tattooed' that time on the saltire. Still, he put up with it because he knew the item and its use made Ramsay happy, and when Ramsay was happy, he was happy. He was very happy.

Something felt different about tonight's appearance of the knife, though. 

The blade wasn't being slashed or dug into his skin right away, and he wasn't currently bleeding. In fact, nothing at all was happening yet, and that delay made his skin crawl. 

Instead of slicing at his pet's skin, Ramsay only sat and stared at the curved metal, and the way the candlelight reflected off those wide, blue eyes and the blade itself had Theon's stomach flipping in unease, his chest suddenly feeling like it was full of knots. Ramsay had gone quiet, his hips had gone still, and he stared at the skinning knife like he was hypnotized. 

Theon swallowed and fidgeted, shrinking back a little into the pillows.

"Rams...?" He whispered. When Ramsay didn't answer, he tried again, a little louder. "Um, master, what's wrong?"

Ramsay finally pulled his attention away from the knife and looked at Theon now, gaze softening, and his tone became eerily gentle and cooing as he spoke again, "Nothing at all, Reek. Just relax, dearest, the tension will make the skin tougher to work with." 

Theon shivered as Ramsay's free hand slid up the length of his left arm. It stopped at his wrist and began to massage into his skin with the thumb, pressing and rubbing, warming it up. The action would have felt nice had it not been for the bruises already making his wrist tender and sore, so the massaging only served to further agitate the nerves. Still, he tried not to be so tense.

After a few minutes, Ramsay stopped, and he brought his knife up to where his thumb had been rubbing circles and rings around Theon's wrist. Theon tilted his head to get a better look at the knife as it was raised, and he fidgeted, praying Ramsay would be careful with his cuts. He trusted his master, most of the time, at least, but sometimes the other man would get carried away with his knife, and he didn't want to risk any dangerous cuts on an area as risky as his wrist. 

"Master?"

"Yes, Reek?" Ramsay watched as he traced the very edge of the blade in a ring along Theon's bony wrist, the metal just barely grazing the pale skin with delicate little kisses. 

Theon's voice was shy and quiet, barely above a whisper. "I-I know it's not my place to make demands, but, um... could you please be careful there? You cut me pretty deeply on my chest the other night, so-"

Ramsay seemed to bristle a bit, and he glanced down at Theon with a tight look and a tense smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His voice was quiet and cool, but it was laced with warning, and Theon immediately fell silent. "If you know it's not your place, then why  _are_ you making demands, Reek?"

Theon didn't answer, heart beating fast in his chest.

"Are you done whining?"

The ginger nodded quickly, big, green eyes staring up in submission. Ramsay was right, he was being a bad boy and he needed to stop right now. It wouldn't serve him well at all to distract his knife-wielding lover.

He settled back into the sheets and pillows and exhaled slowly, trying to get himself to relax, because the best thing to do when Ramsay brought the knives and cigarettes and other 'goodies' out was to just stay calm and ride it out. The more he tensed or fretted about it, the worse it hurt, and the anticipation always seemed to just make him scared and anxious – like right now. 

The blade dug into his skin and began to glide along like it was going through water, and Theon flinched a little but he didn't fight or protest, even when he felt hot blood beginning to trickle down his raised arm. He was a good boy and would take this, he would be good and do whatever it was to make Ramsay happy and stay on the man's good side. 

His bony chest rose and fell with a quick, shaky breath, and his collar tag jingled from the movement. The noise was a small comfort, and he took another, similar breath just to hear the jingle again to distract him while Ramsay sliced a second ring a few inches beneath the first one. A vertical line followed after, connecting the two.

When he went to take a third jingle-inducing breath, it came in as a sharp, violent gasp instead, and he cried out loud and pitched as Ramsay began to peel the skin of his wrist, tugging from the corner and slicing along with the skinning knife. Theon shrieked in pain and fear, all thoughts of being a well-behaved Reek instantly vanishing from his mind as the tortured nerves on his arm began to scream. He tried to wrench the limb away, but the cuffs and crowded space limited him, and the jerking movements only served to let Ramsay pull more at his skin. 

"M-master, please,  _STOP_ -!!" He sobbed, tears beginning to stream down his face.

Ramsay snarled for Theon's silence above him, blue eyes never leaving the flaying wrist, and though a bloody hand swooped down and caught the ginger hard across the jaw, it didn't stop the boy's thrashing and pleading for anything longer than two stunned seconds. 

"It hurts, it  _hurts_ , you p-promised you wouldn't hurt me, Ramsay!!" 

Ramsay stilled, but his hands shook in anger. The hand he'd struck Theon with now moved to latch onto the boy's jaw, squeezing hard as he leaned in close to his face, sneering with wide eyes and bared teeth. He roughly jostled the crying boy's head and growled, " _Enough_. Enough, Reek. You will be good. You will let me work. You can scream all you like if it will help you feel better, but I swear to the gods, if you mess me up, if you cause me to make one imperfection on you, I will flay your entire fucking arm. Do you hear me, Reek?  _Do you_?"

Theon sobbed again, chest heaving and face screwing up as more tears fell down his cheeks.

Ramsay inhaled slowly, and then he exhaled at the same pace, eyes closing briefly before opening again. He forced a steadier tone this time. "You want to be my good boy, right? You want to be my lovely Reek? You want to make your Ramsay happy, don't you?"

Theon nodded, but the gesture was mostly being forced by Ramsay's hand on his jaw. Still, he did want his master to be happy, he really, honestly, truly did... 

"Ye... yes..." He whimpered, lip quivering.

"Yes. Yes, you do. You're my good boy, Reek. You’re my good. Strong. Reek." 

Theon sniffled and choked as the hand released his jaw and papped his cheek, smearing blood like crude war paint before moving back up to his wrist. 

Ramsay continued his horrible task, and Theon closed his eyes tightly and whispered quick and raspy to himself about what a good boy he was in-between little sobs and whimpers, trying to focus on anything else. He focused on how Ramsay's cock had nearly gone flaccid just minutes ago, but then had gotten hard all over again inside of him once the flaying had begun, and he focused on how warm the blood running down his arm felt. He focused on the way his heartbeat sounded like muffled thunder in his ears. He focused on his desperate little mantra.

" _I'm Reek, I'm Reek,_ _that rhymes with meek, and_ _I'm a good boy, I'm Ramsay's good boy, I'm Reek, I'm good, I'm good, I'm-_ **ah**!! _Gods, I'm good, I'm good, by the Drowned God, I'm good, I promise, I'm Reek-!_ "

Try as he might, it was nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but that dizzyingly agonizing pain. It was only a section of his wrist, but gods, did it have him sobbing and pleading like a child, trying so hard not to thrash and pull away. It was so much worse than the first time Ramsay had flayed him... there was more skin, more pulling, more slicing, more blood, and everything caused the nerves to scream in pain like they'd been lit on fire. Even the cold air of the room or Ramsay's warm breaths made his open wound feel like it was being rubbed with salt.

At only a minute or two later, the pain had become too overwhelming. The shock of both that and the blood loss had Theon passing out, and the last thing he saw was that frenzied stare upon his wound as it was lit up by the flickering candle light all around them.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke again, he was lying on his blanket nest at the foot of Ramsay's bed, groggy and feeling heavily medicated. Blearily, he looked towards his outstretched left arm and found his wounded wrist was now pressed with gauze and wrapped in bandages, both materials stained with blood. Some of the red had even managed to soak through onto his sheets.

The wound ached, even burned faintly, but it was mostly numb like the rest of him seemed to be. Ramsay must have used some morphine or something on him after he treated the wound, at least, he hoped so. He would be so grateful for that if it was true, how kind of his master to try and ease his pain for him...

He only wished his master hadn't caused that pain in the first place. But, if it was what Ramsay wanted... and he must have wanted it for something important, right? Ramsay always did things for a reason, so there must have been a reason why he flayed his Reek again, even if it hurt him so, so badly. 

Ramsay always had his reasons, even if they didn't make sense to Reek, but Reek wasn't meant to do the thinking around here, he was just supposed to be a good boy and make his master happy all the time. 

Groggily, he tried to roll himself over, hissing when his left arm just barely nudged the blankets. With more care, he got onto his front, but when he tried to push himself up onto all fours, the pain that bit through the numbness in his wrist had him cry out and collapse back into the sheets. Through his whimpering, he heard boots thundering up the stairs, and then Ramsay was coming through the doorway, voice coated in concern.

"Reek? What's wrong, what happened?" 

When he reached out to pet Theon, the boy flinched and cowered into the sheets, visibly shaking a bit. Ramsay thought the fear and intimidation he saw in those eyes was lovely, and just as delicious as the respect and admiration he normally received.

"I... I tried to get up, but my wrist, it hurts too much..." Theon showed the obvious wrist in question and held it a few inches off the blankets. 

"Ohh, my Reek," Ramsay cooed. "Come here, I'll help you. We'll get you some more painkillers, okay? And some new bandages while we're at it."

Theon nodded, wincing when Ramsay touched him again, but he let himself be helped up onto his feet. He was naked and shivering a little, though whether the latter was from the chill or from slight fear, he wasn't sure. 

_Don't be scared, little Reek,_ _it's only your master. He didn't mean to hurt you. He loves you. Don't you love him, too?_

"I do..." He whispered.

"Do what, Reek?" Ramsay asked, one brow quirked. 

Theon glanced up, realizing he'd answered himself out loud. He stammered a little, then said, "I love you. I'm so sorry I was bad last night."

Ramsay smiled sweetly and rested one large hand on Theon's waist, the other moving up to brush the messy bangs away from those pretty green eyes. "You were bad at first, yes, but then you did so wonderfully. You were so strong and brave, weren't you? Yes, you were. You were tougher than all the others ever were, and you made me proud to be your master last night."

Theon's wrist was raw and burning under the bandages, a constant reminder of what had been done to him, but all he could pay attention to were those words coming out of his lover's mouth. Ramsay was  _proud_ of him? Oh... oh, that was so wonderful! It lifted him, his heart fluttering in his chest and his sore eyes lighting up and losing the fear that had been in them. He smiled big and bright, cheeks flushing pink as he looked down at his feet, expression bashful. 

"I just want to do my best, Rams. I want to prove myself to you, sir."

"And you did. And you will continue to. I always appreciate the efforts you put towards this relationship, Reek. In fact, I've even decided to reward you because of those efforts." 

Theon looked up, brows raised with curiosity. "Reward me?"

"Yes, for your bravery and obedience last night," Ramsay said, nodding, and he turned to head into the bathroom. He started the tub faucet, then came back out. "It's been a long, long time since you've been off the property, hasn't it?"

Theon tilted his head, not quite understanding where Ramsay was going with that. It had been a long time, though, and usually, he tried not to think about it. He'd had his occasional awkward contact with his Starks and sister, but that was about as much of the outside world as he got these days. "Yes? Um, three... three months or so." 

"Three months..." Ramsay trailed off, looking over Theon's shoulder for a moment before blinking and smiling, looking a little dazed.

"Yeah, I-I've been so scared and weird and all lately after what happened, and y-" 

"Three long months, yes! So, I decided to take you out for the day! Isn't that exciting?"

Theon's eyes widened, feeling both giddiness and apprehension burst in his chest. "R-really? Really, I'm going out to town?"

Ramsay was pleased that Theon seemed to be excited about his gift, happy to see his pet so grateful. He nodded. "Yes, you and I are. Now, we're not going to do too much, of course, I don't want to overwhelm you right away. So, let's just call it a mini-date, eh? We run a few errands, then maybe we go to the park or see a movie or something? How does that sound?"

"I'd love to, thank you so much!" He tried not to sound disrespectful with his next words, softening his tone. "I've, um... I've missed it. Missed Northtown and the people and all. Not that I don't like spending time with you, sir, it's just-"

"No, no, I understand, darling. I can't imagine what it must be like spending day after day in the same lonely, miserable place, hm? Wanting a little extra interaction every now and again, to get out and feel independent like before..."

Theon dug his toes into the sheets under his feet, hands fidgeting at his sides. "Yes." He jolted when heavy hands clapped down onto his shoulders and squeezed.

"Go get a quick bath, Reek, and I'll gather you some clothes. Be mindful of your bandages, I'll redress your wrist and give you more painkillers once you're out." 

With that said, Ramsay left, and Theon shuffled off to the bathroom. He was relieved by the sight and sound of the running bath; he couldn't wait to wash the dried, flaky blood and grimy sweat off his skin, and rinse the residual cum out of his still-sore ass. He'd have to be quick about it, though, as his master didn't like to be delayed. Besides, the quicker he got his wound redressed, the better. He wasn't looking forward to that at all.

He stepped into the hot bath with a soft hiss and sunk in, left arm carefully raised above the water. The heat felt good on his aching body, easing him of some of Ramsay's treatment from last night, and he tried to focus on the comfort as he started washing himself. The bites and scratches stung when he washed them, and he reminded himself to ask his master to put some disinfectant on those. Ramsay had bitten him hard on the thigh one evening, and when the wound had become infected it was terribly painful to walk and move around for several weeks after. 

Next, he moved onto the blood, his cleansing getting a little more reluctant the further up it moved along his left arm. It ached to even touch the limb, and more-so the closer he got to the bandaged area. Gods, he didn't even want to imagine how it would feel if he touched the actual wound itself, and just the mere thought of the washrag being dragged over the raw red made him cringe hard. 

He cast a glare up at the angry wound hidden under its soaked bandages, and try as he might, he just couldn't make sense of what its purpose was. He hated it. 

"Th-thoughts elsewhere, Reek, just ignore it," he murmured, shaking his head. 

Quickly, and very carefully, he worked the rest of that area, then left it alone for the remainder of his bath, only paying his arm any further attention to make sure he didn't bump or rub it against anything. It was a little difficult to wash his hair with one hand, though, he had to admit.

The water was tinged a dirty pink by the time he was completely done, and he drained the tub before standing and using the shower to get a quick rinse of his body. He never liked seeing the pink water, and he especially didn't like seeing it clinging to and dripping off his body, so he always showered off before getting out just as he did now. 

Stepping onto the bathmat, he stood there and shivered, annoyed that he'd forgotten a towel, and not wanting to drip water everywhere. Ramsay only liked certain messes, and water on the floor was not one of them.

Ramsay came in about that time, a bundle of clothes in one hand and a large med-kit in the other. His blue eyes glanced at the tinted water as it swirled down the drain, then lingered onto Theon as he stood there shivering with a thin arm wrapped around his middle. 

A soft smile came to his lips and a glaze formed in his eyes as he admired his pet. His Reek was thinner, paler, bonier than Theon had been, and he was covered with countless scars and scabs. He was becoming beauty incarnate to Ramsay, and that ever-present gleam of fear and respect in those gaunt, green eyes, eyes that grew duller every day, was just the cherry on top. 

"You forgot your towel, silly," Ramsay chirped after a moment, an amused grin spreading onto his face.

Theon looked down at his wet, naked body and huffed. "Yes, sorry."

Ramsay set the items in his hands down onto the counter, then grabbed one of the towels and tossed it to Theon, delighting when the boy yelped as he caught the cloth with his wounded arm. "Oh! My apologies, dearest, I forgot. How stupid of me... Would you like me to dry you off?"

Theon nodded, and Ramsay started to dab and rub him down with the towel. As the latter man moved lower, a sly grin crept onto his face. Theon jolted and gasped the instant he felt something warm and soft against the tip of his flaccid cock, and he looked down to see his master leaning in to kiss it a second time. 

"O-oh," he whispered, cheeks flushing with heat. The simple actions were enough to get him stirring, and his cock began to harden, much to Ramsay's apparent delight, and soon those grinning lips were back onto his tip. He set his hands upon Ramsay's shoulders to brace himself, knees already going weak at the soft pecks and licks, and he didn't even mind when there were a few tiny nips thrown in there, too. 

Once Theon was fully-hard, which didn't take long at all, Ramsay took him deeper into his mouth and began to suckle, tongue lapping up the little beads of pre-come. The suction of of Ramsay's mouth made the red head light-headed, and he grew even weaker in the knees with the way that tongue was rolling and swirling and flickering all over his length.

The ginger thrusted, a little clumsy and jerking, and he could already feel himself getting close. These days, it didn't take much to get him to climax, at least, not when the touches were soft and loving, and Ramsay knew that. A little kiss here, a gentle stroke there, and the boy was melting like butter.

Sure enough, just as Ramsay was nearly down to the base, Theon was already stiffening up and going taut, gasping soft and pitched as he came into his lover's mouth and throat. When he tried to pull back, Ramsay's hand cupped him on the ass and held him in place, keeping him there until every last drop was taken and Theon's little twitches and quivers had subsided. 

Ramsay finally let Theon go and took a good, deep breath, face a bit flushed and wearing a wolfish grin. He lovingly stroked the tip of one of the old whipping scars on Theon's thigh and said, "Felt good, didn't it?"

Theon nodded quickly, and after a brief moment he ducked down and pressed a graceless kiss to Ramsay's lips. Tasting his own, and tasting himself on them, he stepped back and gave a blushing, lopsided smile. "Yes. Yes, yes, it did. It did, thank you, Rams, thank you so much."

Ramsay's finger traced the thick scar a bit and hummed, nodding. "You're welcome, my dear. But really, you deserve it; you were a very good boy, after all." 

"Yes," Theon said. "A very good boy."

Ramsay's eyes traveled down from Theon's own, roving across that pale, soft, bony body in front of him and stopping to stare at a scabbed-over bitemark on his hip. "You understand why I did that to you, don't you?"

Theon knew what he meant. "Yes, m-"

"Answer me honestly, Reek."

There was hesitation, and then, "No. No, I don't, sir. I don't understand it... it hurt so badly, and after you promised-!"

Ramsay held up a hand, fingertip resting itself on Theon's quivering lip. "Hush, Reek. My darling. I did it because you are mine. Because you are important to me, so very, very important. I... know I'm not very good with showing my adoration, lovely, not like you deserve, but I try in whatever ways I can. Hell, I know that wasn't orthodox, but it was a very important thing for me, something I absolutely had to do, and well. Well, you were just... gods, you were so, so beautiful."

Theon didn't really understand any of that or where Ramsay was going with it, exactly, but the last part did catch his short attention and give him pleasant butterflies in his belly. " Y-you think I'm beautiful, sir?"

Ramsay's eyes wandered over Theon's body, almost hungry in their gaze, and he said, "Yes. Yes, I think you're incredibly beautiful, Reek, far more beautiful than Theon ever was, and last night was no different. You always cry so pretty for me, but it was gorgeous when I flayed you, I've never seen anything like it... and all that red..." 

Theon watched Ramsay lean back with a sigh, and those eyes closed for a moment. His master must have been thinking about how beautiful he apparently looked last night. Theon didn't know why Ramsay would think that about him; surely, he'd been so ugly and annoying with all his crying and screaming and thrashing? 

But the way his master groaned, and the way the front of those black jeans seemed to tent a bit, well, there was really no denying it that he must have been pretty, right? And Ramsay made him that way. He made him that pretty.

He blushed.

The day-dreaming Bolton opened his eyes and sat back up, moving to stand, his sudden actions making Theon flinch and cower a little, and though it was only for a moment, Ramsay still noticed. A pulse of pleasure raced down to his already-hard cock, but he ignored it, reaching up to stroke and pet at some of the scars and bruises adorning that milky skin. He admired in silence for a long moment, almost startling Theon when he spoke again. 

"I also did it to test your loyalty, your strength. I wanted to see if you were truly dedicated to me and my happiness, and to see if you were strong enough. I had to test and see if you were as strong and brave as I was sure you could be." He cupped Theon's face in his hands, gaze intense. "And you know what, Reek?"

"What?" Theon whispered.

"You are strong. You're the strongest. You're the bravest, too, and the most loyal. I was impressed with you last night, and your willpower to obey and do what you could to make me happy despite any and all fear and pain you were feeling was marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. You are my strong, brave, loyal, and beautiful Reek. You are mine. I love you."

Theon's eyes closed and he swallowed thickly, reveling in the praise that was just showered upon him. Honestly, it was nothing short of wonderful, every word of it, and the way it had his chest swelling with pride and adoration had him forgiving Ramsay for the pain the wound had cause and was still causing. He would tolerate that pain because Ramsay said he believed he could do it, because his master said he believed he was tough enough. 

Theon felt dizzy, almost high off those words and their impact, and he was sure that if Ramsay told him to go jump off the top of one of those pines or wrestle with a wolf right now, he would do it simply just because the other man said he was so strong and so brave. 

Instead, Ramsay only told him to sit down and brace himself for his wound-care and bandage prep. No pines nor ferocious wolves, but Theon decided this still counted because it was certainly something he'd have to be strong and brave for just as much as he'd have to be for any height or fang. 

 

* * *

 

 

They sat in the truck together and were on their way to town, and Theon couldn't have been more excited to finally be getting out of that house. As excited as he was, though, he still couldn't help being apprehensive about it, and his anxieties showed with his fidgeting hands pulling and fretting at the hem of his big sweater. 

He couldn't wait to be out and away from the Dreadfort property, finally back around more people and feeling freer, but the thought of going to places he hadn't been in months, of seeing and being judged by others he knew and didn't know, was very intimidating. It made his heart pound and his fingers shake. 

Was he really ready for this? He'd only just started getting used to the cold and the woods again...

Something stilled one of his fretful hands, and he looked down to see Ramsay had grabbed it.

"Reek, dear," Ramsay said. "Your fidgeting is getting very distracting."

Theon reddened just a little, a tad embarrassed that his nerves were so obvious. He hadn't even realized he was twitching so much. "Sorry, sorry, s'just... 'm nervous."

A soft snicker. "That's alright. You'll be fine once you get out and start walking around. You're not going to stay in the truck the whole time."

"I know, I won't, I promise."

"No need to promise; you won't."

Theon nodded and slumped down in his seat, looking out the window. His hands stopped their constant movement, but his thumbs still rubbed the sweater hem, at least, until Ramsay's grasp tightened in warning, then they stopped, too.

After a few minutes, Ramsay released Theon's hand and spoke again, gesturing to the radio. "You may change the station if you like, Reek. Whatever you want."

Surprised, Theon looked at Ramsay, then to the radio, a little disbelieving and a quite a bit giddy. He hadn't been allowed that privilege in so, so long, and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to listen to the music  _he_ liked. All he'd heard for the last several months had been various types of metal music, or sometimes hard rock and sleazy, grungy country if the boys were over. 

Slayer was currently on the radio with a song Theon probably never would have listened to on his own. In fact, that was how it had been a lot of times lately, and Theon had found himself exposed to bands he almost never recognized and couldn't understand, bands he'd never go out of his way to look for except maybe a rare few, but mostly bands that made him wince and want to cover his ears. Heavy, deep pulses or fast, thrashing sounds, and vocals that either bummed him out or made even his throat hurt, were almost all he got to hear in the house or whenever there was music playing on the property. 

Now, though, he was finally given the option to hear something else. It was like a damn gift, and though it may have only been a simple gesture and nothing more, it still affected the little red-head deeply and made his eyes well up with happy tears. He wouldn't have to listen to songs that reminded him of his master's anger and violence, of the way knives felt on his skin, of the way blood looked almost black as it was first coming out of his body, of the fear he felt while suffering his punishments in the basement bunker. At least, for a little while, he wouldn't have to be reminded of those things. Ramsay was so kind to give him this...

He stared at the dial like it was some kind of valuable prize, which, to him, it was. His eyes darted back and forth between it and his master's face for a moment before he gingerly reached out and began to flip through the stations. His eyes closed briefly in relief when the aggressive, heavy sounds of ' _213_ ' were suddenly replaced by the more up-beat, laid-back ones of some hip-hop song he didn't recognize, and he damn near felt like huffing a sob when the next station he flipped it to had the beginning notes of Cage the Elephant's ' _Shake Me Down_ ' starting to play. 

He wheezed a little laugh and smiled, sitting back up and giving a delighted clap of his hands. "I love this song!"

"I can see that." Ramsay didn't seem nearly as thrilled as Theon, but he still smiled in amusement at the boy's happiness. It wasn't his cup of tea, but he went ahead and turned the volume up, and from the corner of his eye he watched Theon's smile soften as the ginger started to mouth along to the words. 

This was all kind of funny to Ramsay; who knew a little reward of music could make his Reek so damn happy? Once the station changed, it was as if those anxieties from just a moment ago hadn't been there at all, and the boy was practically doing a damn musical number for him in the passenger's seat. 

The Bolton son didn't like the song, and he didn't like the station it was playing on, either, but if it made his Reek look this lovely in the sunlight coming through the window -and especially if it made him more compliant and appreciative later on-, then he was willing to tolerate it. Besides, they were nearly to town, and he wouldn't have to hear his pet's taste in music for much longer, at least until they got back into the truck. 

They were pulling into town, and when the truck halted at a stoplight, Ramsay turned his glance to Theon again, eyeing his pet as he was leaned against the window and 'singing' along with the vocalist.

"... _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_    
 _Even on a cloudy day_

_I'll keep my eyes fixed on the-_    
 _I'll keep my eyes fixed on the-_    
 _I'll keep my eyes fixed on the sun_..."

Those pretty green eyes were closed as he mouthed that part, and when they opened again there was a sheen of unshed tears on them, different from the ones that had been there when he'd been given access to the radio. The gloss was quickly wiped away with a few rapid blinks and a couple of thick swallows, though, and soon the light was going green and drawing Ramsay's attentions back to the road. His jaw was set in slight irritation, and he had to resist rolling his eyes.

_Oh, don't be so dramatic, Reek._

Theon did calm his emotions down, and he was soon distracted by the sight of his old town passing him by in the window, no longer paying any attention to the radio. With brief glances, Ramsay watched all the expressions flitting over his pet's face, most of them some sort of surprise or fascination. It was almost as if the boy had never been here before, like he was seeing it all for the first time –and, maybe some things he was-, and his master found it to be rather endearing. It was like was watching a dog, like seeing his girls get excited and curious about something, but wasn't that always the case for his Reek?

Rolling the window down for Theon, Ramsay asked, "Enjoying the underwhelming view?"

Theon, who'd taken his ushanka off and stuck his head out the window like a pup the moment it was rolled down, sat back in his seat with a questioning expression. "What, sir?"

"I asked if you were enjoying the underwhelming view." The cold air outside had blown Theon's hair and made it into a fluffy mess. Ramsay reached over and petted it, straightening it back out as best he could, but there were still a few errant strands. 

"Oh! Oh, yes, yes, sir, very much. I'd nearly forgotten what it all looked like, and I didn't even know that antiques shop had moved. Thank you, again. You know, for bringing me back here." He hesitated for a moment, then leaned across the gap and pressed a kiss to Ramsay's cheek with his chilly, wet lips. His head was back out the window before Ramsay could register the show of gratitude, and his shiny gold tag fluttered and jingled in the wind. 

Theon's eyes were closed as he did this, so he didn't really notice some of the people watching him in confusion and amusement, and even if he did see them he probably wouldn't have recognized them anyway. He didn't recognize a lot of things these days.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon stood in the cereal aisle of the Reynolds, a large box of some sugary kid's brand clutched in his hands. His eyes roamed over the back of the box, reading the goofy little puzzles and factoids printed there, and he looked very much enraptured by the bit of cardboard. 

He put that box away, then grabbed for some marshmallow-filled, pirate-themed one, absently reaching up to finger the strap on the ear flap of his ushanka as he read about how big a giant squid's eyeball can get. 

Ramsay wandered by every few minutes to check on him. He trusted his Reek, and he had plenty of confidence in his training of his pet, but sometimes things weren't always what they seemed. There was always a chance that wretch Theon would come back and will poor, stupid, easily-led Reek out of the grocery store and to an acquaintance or police officer or something while Ramsay wasn't around to stop him. 

So far, though, nothing like that had happened at all, and he continued to leave Theon alone when he saw he was still busy with the cereal boxes, of all things. If he continued to be a good boy, maybe he'd let his pet choose one or two to take home. 

Ramsay snuck off to the nearby produce section, and Theon still stood around getting an education.

Theon nearly dropped the box he was currently looking at when there was a sudden tap at his shoulder. Tensing up and hugging the box to his chest, he huddled in on himself a bit and shyly turned to see who was trying to get his attention. It was a woman, young and pretty, and he thought he recognized her a little but he couldn't recall from where. 

"Theon?" She said, smiling a bit before it faded into something more awkward and unsure. "Is that you...?"

"I-" He stammered and looked off over her shoulder at the shelves behind her, not sure how to answer that question. He... well, he  _used_ to be Theon when he was bad, he thought, but he wasn't quite sure. Sometimes he felt like he had always been just Reek, that Theon Greyjoy was someone else entirely, almost like some sort of hated bogeyman in his and Ramsay's lives that the two rarely ever spoke of, and it often confused him. 

He had a hard time remembering things about Theon. He had a hard time remembering life before the last year or so, even the last several months, and that was a big part of the reason he often doubted he was ever anyone other than Reek. 

She didn't wait for him to answer properly, her grin coming back as she said, "Oh, it  _is_ you! I'd know those green eyes and gappy teeth anywhere! You always were such an odd charmer – no offense. You look different now, though; have you lost weight? Big style change, too, never took you for one of those collar-wearing types. Honestly, always thought that'd be more Jon, he was always more gloomy and gothy and weird like that, you know? You look gaunt, are you getting enough sleep?"

The woman chattered on like she knew him, but he had no idea who she was, and he felt a bit intimidated by the situation. Was he being pranked? She was talking so much and he didn't know how to answer her, didn't know  _when_  to answer her, and even when the name 'Jon' caught his attention, he still wasn't able to force any words out.

"Gods, you're quieter than I remembered. Granted, I haven't seen you in, what, nearly two years or so, but you used to talk so much Sansa and I thought you'd never shut up!" She laughed.

The name 'Sansa' caught his attention just as 'Jon' had, and he tilted his head in recognition. He knew those names, still knew those people, sort of, and sometimes Ramsay mentioned the cop when he was irritated or in a mocking mood. That is, if that's who she was talking about. There were a lot of Jon's in the world. Not a lot of Sansa's, though.

The chatty woman was about to speak again when Ramsay pulled up behind her with his cart, a tight smile on his face that, while it normally made him nervous, had Theon sighing in relief. He cleared his throat and she turned around, discomfort evident in her features at the sight of him.

"Oh, um. Ramsay Bolton, right?" 

The man's smile became more relaxed, friendlier, and it put the strange woman at ease, but Theon knew there was venom still hiding behind those lips. Ramsay Bolton's genuine smiles were few and far between. "Yes, correct. And you are?"

"Jeyne, Jeyne Poole, I'm a friend of Sansa Stark. Well! Her  _best_  friend, actually, ha!" A bell rang distantly in the back of Theon's mind at the mention of this chatty woman's name, but he still couldn't quite remember her no matter how familiar she was. 

A muscle in Ramsay's jaw twitched, and he bared some teeth with his smile. "Oh, are you? Lovely Sansa, haven't seen her in a good while, how is she?"

"She's fine, she's fine, just saw her yesterday. In fact, we were actually talking a little bit about you and Theon here, kind of funny that I ran into you two."

Theon could see Ramsay's hand clench around the shopping cart's handle, and he trembled just a tad behind his cereal box. He hugged it tighter, even if the action made his wrist wound screech under its bandaging.

"Ah? I hope it was all good things."

"Er, yeah!" Even Theon could sense the hesitation in her tone. She quickly changed the direction of the conversation, and the two continued to talk about him as if he wasn't there. "Gods, you know, Theon looks and acts so differently since the last time I saw him, I almost didn't recognize him!"

"Yes, he has changed a bit since the incident a few months ago where he nearly froze to death. Lost a finger and two toes, hasn't quite gotten his physical and mental health up to par yet, either. Had a little trouble with fear, too, this is actually his first time out in a while."

Jeyne gasped a bit. "Oh my- yes! Yes, Sansa had mentioned that and I'd completely forgotten about it!" She turned and set a hand on Theon's shoulder, appearing to not notice the way he flinched under her touch. "Lord, you must think I'm so rude! I'm so sorry, Theon!" 

"' _Reek_ '," he murmured, fidgeting with a corner of the box.

"What's that, honey, I didn't hear it?"

"I-" He looked up and briefly met Ramsay's gaze, shivering, then quickly nodded and mumbled a little louder. "It's okay. Rams-Ramsay helps me out a lot. He's been good to me."

An unreadable look passed over her face, but then she smiled and nodded. "I'm sure. Well, I've bothered you two long enough. I should be going anyway, I've got a lunch meeting with a friend. Nice meeting you, Ramsay, and it was good to see you again, Theon!" 

The two men watched as she turned and left, probably a little more briskly than she intended, and then Theon shuffled over to Ramsay, looking apologetic. "'M sorry, sir, she just came over and started talking to me. I-I recognize the name... I think? But I still don't know who she is, really, and she just kept talking, and I just wanted to look at cereals, and-"

Ramsay snorted and raised a hand, shushing him. "No worries, dearest, not your fault. She was just very invasive and disrespectful, wasn't she?"

Theon nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, very."

A smile, then a heavy hand on his shoulder. He flinched. "Ready to go? I've just about got everything. I see you've found some cereal, is that the one you want?"

Theon looked down at the box in his arms and shook his head. He turned and put it back, then grabbed the one with the pirate and the squid fact on it. "This one, please? If it's okay with you."

"Of course it is, but thank you for asking. Your manners are getting better every day, darling."

That made Theon smile, and he happily put the box into the cart. They then headed for the check-out counters, and Ramsay asked, "So, where to next? White Tree Park?"

Theon smiled and nodded, feeling excitement again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to Northtown's biggest and most beautiful park, and he wanted to see if it was as lovely as his memory told him it was. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon trotted ahead of Ramsay as they strolled along the park's main trail, and despite his curiosity and excitement, the ginger always made sure to keep fairly close to his master, or at least, within eyesight. He'd wandered off once to take a closer look at a rabbit that had bounded away, but after the scolding he got for doing so, he hadn't done anything like that again. 

That was understandable, of course; he didn't want to worry Ramsay again like he had before, and it wasn't fair for him to misbehave like that after his master had been kind enough to bring him out here in the first place. 

After several more minutes of walking, they arrived at the large pond in the park's center. It was a beautiful place, surrounded by a few large oaks and hanging willow tries, and there were ducks and geese wandering around, even a crane standing off at the opposite edge. It was quiet and clean, despite the amount of people that often came here, and in the summertime, when the snowy slope was instead an expanse of lush, green grass, people would come out here to read or have picnics, or simply just to doze. 

Reek faintly remembered the days where Theon would go lie under one of the willow trees and sleep for hours, warmed by the summer weather and lulled by the croak of frogs and buzz of dragon flies. There was none of that now, only the cold air and the snow weighing the branches down and blanketing everything, and the pond water was still and silent with ice. 

Still, it was lovely, and his master seemed calmed by it all, blue eyes closed and breathing evenly like he was meditating. Theon couldn't help but think how beautiful Ramsay looked like this, his pale skin contrasting perfectly with his black hair, his expression peaceful, and his blue eyes, when they opened again, nearly glimmering like gems in the light. His heart fluttered in his bony little chest, and the pink already in his cheeks from the cold, deepened. 

He shuffled closer to Ramsay and pressed his front to the other man's side, then nestled his head against one broad shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt an arm wrap around his waist and hug him firmly, and he gave a little sigh, breath fogging up the air. 

This was nice. This was peaceful and quiet, warm and familiar. It reminded him of some distant memories, memories where he was held close underneath protective arms, and where a soft, raspy voice used to sing him to sleep after telling him how loved he was. 

"Did you enjoy your day, Reek?" Ramsay asked, voice almost as quiet as the rest of the park seemed to be.

"Yeah, I loved it, thank you, Rams. I... I'd love to do it again, soon."

There was a hint of mischief in Ramsay's tone as he said, "Then you'll be happy to know I've spoken with your Starks, and we've been cordially invited to their next big family dinner. Robb will be there, too. Would you like to see him? Ahh, and we mustn't forget- your beautiful little Sunny will be so excited to see you."

Theon's head whipped around to look up at Ramsay, green eyes wide and bright. He looked like he was about to burst from both excitement and disbelief. "R-Really?? Really, you mean it?"

Ramsay nodded, grinning. "Yes. It's next Friday evening. Make sure you behave until then, okay?"

"Oh, I will, master, I swear it. I'll be so good!" Theon was so excited. He hadn't seen his family in so long, and sometimes he actually forgot some of their names, often enough that it scared him. But this was good, this was very good! He was going to see them and visit with every one of them, and he'd finally get to see his little Sunny again. Gods, he missed her... would she even remember him? He sometimes forgot what she looked like and would have to check the pictures on his phone to remind himself. He hoped the little dog's memory was better than his own...

Regardless, he was happy, very happy, and he couldn't wait for next Friday. Today was so perfect it was almost as if last night had never happened, no matter how much his wrist ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the park scene was so brief. :( 
> 
> As compensation, here are some drawings I did of Rams and Theon. They're on my tumblr, I hope the links work.
> 
> \- http://nucleargers.tumblr.com/post/166805910475/been-stressing-a-bit-decided-to-try-and-mellow
> 
> \- http://nucleargers.tumblr.com/post/165140826105/and-mamas-clear-favorite-theon-3
> 
> Aigh't, love you guys, take care. Thanks for reading. <3


	18. Homecoming and Going

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. This month ended up being a lot more overwhelming than I expected.  
> I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.   
> Thank you for being patient with me, and thank you for reading. <3

Ramsay gripped the steering wheel in his big hands a little tighter than he meant to show. He was not at all looking forward to seeing the Stark Family and Co., in fact, he was actually dreading it a little, and he berated himself for having been so reckless as to have actually gone and set something up with that miserable family.

_Stupid, stupid,_ **_stupid_ ** _!_

On the other side of the truck, Theon was wriggling like a caught fish, unable to properly sit still in his seat for more than a minute before adjusting and moving yet again, grinning repeatedly over at Ramsay or out the window.

"Do you think Sunny will remember me?" The red-head asked.

Ramsay frowned at the road, answering a bit absently. "'M sure..."

Theon gave a giddy little clap of his hands, just a tap-tap-tap of his fingertips so he wouldn't jostle his still-sensitive flaying wound. "I haven't seen everyone in so long! I'm so happy!"

"Mhm."

"But, um..."

The hesitation caught Ramsay's attention now, and he glanced over at Theon from the corner of his eye as he turned onto the town's main street. "What?"

"Well, 'm getting kinda nervous, too, sir. Like, I keep thinking, what if they don't want to see me? What if 'm not good enough anymore?"

Ramsay scoffed and shook his head. "Oh, believe me, Reek, you're better now than you ever were, and far better than any one of your beloved Starks. That's not necessarily a mark against them, that's just the truth, you know. We can't help being their superiors."  _Not that you're actually anything even remotely close to being a 'superior', dear Reek... but you_ ** _are_** _better than the lot of them._   _And_ _besides_ _,_ _w_ _ho_ _doesn't love a dog more than they love a wolf?_

"Oh. Well, better or not, I still love them a lot. They're still my family, even if they don't love me the same." He tried to sound confident about it, but he was clearly becoming more and more unsure and starting to fret some.

"Reek, my love, I'm afraid we can't always change how our family feels about us, no matter how hard we try," Ramsay said, bitterness tainting his tone. "We'll see, though, won't we? I'm sure your Starks love you just fine, so there's no need to rile yourself up before we've even gotten there."

Theon nodded quickly. He pulled at the hem of his baggy sweater sleeve and murmured, "Right, right, you're right. You're right, I can do this, no worries, no fears."

Not that Reek was exactly known for his fearlessness.

"Say it with me, Reek," Ramsay said, pulling the scared boy's attention back to him. "' _I am Theon Greyjoy'_."

Theon frowned and his brows furrowed. "But 'm not! Theon was bad, 'm good. I don't want to be bad..."

Ramsay grunted. Well, at least his pet always knew his place, so he couldn't really be annoyed at him for that. Still... "I know that, darling, I'm not an idiot. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No! No, no, sir, I don't. 'M sorry."

"Good. Now, say it.  _'I am Theon Greyjoy'_." 

" _'I... I am Theon... Theon Greyjoy'_?" There was hesitation in his voice and uncertainty in his eyes as he repeated his master's words.

"Very good," Ramsay purred, coolly. "Again."

Theon nodded and tried again. " _'I am Theon Greyjoy'_." And again, with a little more confidence. " _'I am Theon Greyjoy'_." Once more, louder and with rushed certainty. " _'I am Theon Greyjoy'_." He looked to Ramsay again for some approval.

"Good boy. You keep that act going tonight and they'll love you just fine, darling. They won't suspect a thing." 

It was a shame the Starks would probably never accept Reek like they had Theon. Such shallow people, they'd want their charming, golden-boy track star over this beautiful, obedient, and perfect pet. That was fine, though, because it meant that Reek was truly all his, and once Reek actually saw for himself how shallow and terrible the Starks actually were, he'd never want to go back to them. 

Reek didn't need them, he'd realize that very soon. The quicker the better, too, because Ramsay was just itching to get home already. 

A short while later, they were pulling into the Winterfell property, and both passengers felt their stomachs doing flips as they got closer to the huge home at the end of the drive. Theon was hoping for a more nostalgic, happy feeling upon arrival, but instead he was met with his nerves tying themselves into knots. 

A few of the family's wolves trotted up to the truck, and Theon felt a hint of that happiness he'd been hoping for well up within his chest at the sight of the big, fluffy canines. He hoped they remembered him, and he hoped that they still liked him like they used to. When the truck came to a stop, he got out and was met with a big, wet black nose and sharp, gold eyes. 

"Hey, Shaggydog," He cooed, gingerly offering the back of his hand for a sniff. "Remember me?"

The wolf took one, two sniffs before smothering Theon's hand in sloppy, friendly kisses. The ginger laughed and crouched down to let his face receive the same treatment, and soon he was getting it from Summer and a ribbon-wearing Lady, too. 

"Agh! No, ha! I missed you- mrfh- I missed you, too, but no more kisses, let me stand!" 

He hadn't even realized Ramsay had come around to his side of the truck until a big hand slipped under his armpit and hefted him up and away from the excited wolves. He quickly wiped the wolf slobber from his smiling face once he was free. 

"You stink of their breath," Ramsay stated, then stepped around the beasts and headed for the front door. He gave a subtle snap of his fingers at his side that was loud enough for Theon to hear it, and the boy trotted over with the wolves following closely behind and nudging his hands for more pets and scratches. 

Summer's nose bumped his wrist, and even with the cushioning of the bandages and his sweater sleeve, he still gave a sharp gasp and moved his arm a little more in front of himself so it wouldn't happen again. He'd have to be more careful; he didn't want anything like that happening in front of the Starks, and he certainly didn't want one of them grabbing him there unknowingly. It wasn't something he really wanted to explain, let alone think about.

The ease and cheeriness he felt with the wolves just moments ago was quickly waning back into anxiety as they stepped up to the porch, and before they could even knock, the door swung open to reveal Robb standing there. The Stark son's smile dropped from his face and he appeared stunned for a moment, wide eyes staring and roaming over Theon before blinking a few times. 

The next thing Theon knew, he was being pulled into a tight, almost-crushing hug, and he winced hard, taking a few seconds to register what was happening before he hugged back with as much strength as he could muster. The hug gave him such a burst of comfort that he was able to ignore the sharp ache he felt in his left arm as he wrapped it around his best friend. He ignored the sting in his eyes, too, and tried to will the tears away, but he couldn't help the few that managed to slip through his pale lashes.

Ramsay stood beside the two of them and crossed his arms, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  _Acting like_ _sea-wives_ _when their husbands finally return_ _home or something..._  

He snorted; well, 'sea-wife' wasn't that far off a thought for Reek, formerly of Pyke. 

He glanced down when something else wandered into his sight, and looking back up at him was a massive, grey wolf that was bigger than any of his three girls. It sniffed him once, then growled low and rumbling in its throat, snout giving a twitch as if it were preparing to bare its teeth. He glared down at it, and just as he was about to make a snide remark in regards to the beast's poor manners, Robb was already releasing Theon and turning his attentions to the wolf behind him.

"Grey Wind! Stop that, enough. C'mere, boy, you know Theon." Ramsay didn't miss the icy glance Robb darted his way as the Stark boy grabbed his wolf by the collar and nudged the animal towards Theon. 

The wolf didn't growl at Theon, not even a grunt. He nuzzled and rubbed up against the scrawny boy's leg and sniffed him up and down, and Theon reciprocated the attention with lots of petting and quiet cooing.

Ramsay watched his Reek for a moment before turning a polite, gently-tense smile towards Robb. "Hello, Robb, been a while, eh?"

Robb's own smile matched Ramsay's. "Yes. It has been. You know, I gotta say, I was surprised you even got a hold of us for this. We were starting to think maybe you guys were just too busy to see us anymore."

"Ah, the stresses of having your own lives to lead, eh? With your own responsibilities and obligations, etcetera, etcetera."

Theon could sense the tension sparking between the two, and he awkwardly tried to intervene, gesturing limply towards the entryway. "Let's, uh. Let's go see the others, huh?"

Robb broke the stare first, his smile softening into one of genuine affection and something like sympathy for his friend, and he nodded. "Right. C'mon in, let's get out of this cold, huh? Jon and Ygritte should be here within the hour, too." 

Oh, goodie...  Ramsay followed Theon and Robb into the house, and he kept his guard up for that large, grey wolf that was right on his heels.  He wasn't scared of the animal,  not really,  but he didn't need the damn thing giving its owner any cause for worr y.  He certainly didn't need  it granting Robb excuses  for nosiness into his and Reek's personal lives. 

The two guests shed their coats and shoes, then followed Robb further into the house, with the latter man happily chatting away to a soft-spoken Theon as a quiet Ramsay trailed behind them. His intense blue gaze wandered all over while they walked, picking up numerous little details here and there all over the house; the decorations, the photos on the walls... he paid special attention to the photos, even stopping in the hall while Robb and Theon carried on. 

He looked at the pictures, eyes roving over faces he did and didn't recognize. Some photos were of the Stark family themselves, and others were of people who must have been Stark and Tully relatives. He had no interest in those.

The ones he did focus on were a few pictures that included his lovely Reek, back when he was Theon. One was a fairly-recent family portrait that the Starks had included Theon in. Others had just him and Robb doing silly things, sometimes with the other siblings. Several other pictures were of Theon posing for his sports team pictures; the elementary and middle school Theons stood with their little soccer balls, and a few high school Theons stood on the track field. Then, there was one picture that Ramsay liked in particular that was just of Theon smiling big and dumb at the camera. He was lovely, though, it was almost like a complete stranger was looking back at him. 

He stared at all these Theons, these soon-to-be-Reeks, and he noted that those green eyes were far brighter than the ones that belonged to his pet. The face was fuller, too, and the hair was a more vibrant red. The shoulders broad and confident, and that smile was cocky and genuine. A handsome, happy boy grinned at Ramsay in all those pictures, and though he had liked some of them, Ramsay wanted very much to punch the framed photos right off the wall.

Those were not his Reek. They were some impudent little brat who didn't know his place.  

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he turned and continued down the hallway.

Meanwhile, in the large, cozy den, Theon was on the floor and nearly in tears, laughing and smiling so brightly as a ridiculously-excited Sunny smothered his face in happy kisses. The puppy was larger and fluffier than the last time he'd seen her, heavier, too, but she was still the same sweet, friendly Sunny he'd left with Arya, and she hadn't forgotten him at all. 

"Gods, she's going to eat your face off, Theon!" Arya laughed.

Theon did get nipped a few times from some of the more excitable kisses, and Sunny almost trampled his covered wrist wound a few times as she jumped and wriggled. He didn't care, though, this was the happiest he'd been in a while and if Sunny wanted to eat his face or kick his wrist around, then she was damn well welcome to. 

Not even the mildly-annoyed and uncomfortable expression on the face of his master as he showed up in the den's entryway could bring Theon down. He sat up and pulled the wiggly Pomeranian with him, lifting the dog so Ramsay could see her. 

"Look, Rams, she remembered me! You were right!"

Ramsay couldn't have cared less, but his pet's enthusiasm was nice, and that would probably equal more enthusiasm later that night when he was inevitably rewarded for his generosity. He smiled and nodded. "Very good,  _Theon_." 

The name left a bitter taste on his tongue and he resisted the strong urge to scowl after saying it.

Reek visibly winced, too, at least, to Ramsay, he did. That was pleasing to the latter man; his pet knew who he was, and who he was wasn't anyone named "Theon". 

"Hello, Ramsay. Jeyne told me she saw you and Theon at the grocery store the other day." 

Ramsay looked to his right to see Sansa Stark giving him a polite, but tight, smile, and her tone matched it. The Bolton son returned both in spades as he said, "She was right. She chatted up my Theon while he was picking out cereal. Talkative little thing, isn't she?"

She chuckled, but it had that same forced politeness to it. "Yeah, she can talk your ear off. I hope she didn't bother you?"

_She did, she was very obnoxious._  "No, she was fine, no worries."

Ramsay moved across the den and sat down in a chair between Robb and the fireplace. The group carried on with their friendly jabbering, and soon enough, he was joining right in with the conversations being had. He occasionally laughed along and joked with everyone else, but his smile never reached his eyes as they darted around between each person in the room. 

He laughed at Arya's story about her stupid wolf-dog chasing horses, but all he could think about was grabbing her by the back of the head and shoving her bratty face into the fire. 

He clucked sympathetically to Sansa's tale about one of the latest victims to come into her domestic violence shelter, but all he could think about was pinning her down and showing her what real violence was. 

He grinned at Robb's grand retelling of the winning touchdown his buddy had gotten for their university's football team last week, but all he could think about was kicking every single one of those smug, white teeth in and ruining that handsome smile for good.

Most of all, though, he thought about the absolute satisfaction he got from seeing the subtle looks of discomfort occasionally crossing those three Stark faces whenever they glanced at the man who used to be their Theon Greyjoy. They knew he wasn't the same, they knew he'd changed, that he wasn't theirs anymore, and they knew there was nothing they could do about it. That calmed him and quelled all the other thoughts he had, the itch of violence subsiding in him once again. 

Theon felt much differently about the expressions of his siblings. They worried him, and every strange look from them made his belly knot up with unease. He could feel himself start to panic, and the annoyed but contented expression on Ramsay's face did little to nothing to make him feel better. He started to breathe faster, skinny shoulders heaving a little, and his wide, green eyes darted around under furrowed brows. 

He stood suddenly with a jostled, sleepy Sunny in his arms, and when he looked up he was met by the startled faces of his family.

Robb stood immediately, reaching out a hand to touch Theon's arm. He didn't miss the way the smaller man flinched at the gesture. "Theon, what's wrong, are you okay? Hey. Hey, Theon?"

"I..." 

"Theon?" Ramsay asked, slowly rising from his chair, squinting warily. 

Outside, the wolves began to bark and yip excitedly, and a few moments later they were met with the sounds of the front door opening followed by Jon and Ygritte calling out.

"Sta~arks! We've arrived! Hello?" Ygritte hollered, voice a bit muffled from where she was at, then softer as she spoke to Jon. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Those wolves outside, they're your family. Your family are werewolves, I knew it."

Jon laughed and shushed her, then started making his way through the hall. "Okay then, if I'm a werewolf, too, then what's that make Ghost?"

"Your spirit animal? Shit, I dunno."

In the den, everyone was still looking at Theon expectantly, waiting for an answer. Theon swallowed a few times, then quickly said, "I-I just need some air, it's a bit stuffy in here, 'm sorry!" He scurried off towards the back patio door with Sunny bouncing in his arms.

"Theon, what-?" Sansa started, but neither she nor any of the others followed after him. The three Starks looked towards Ramsay, who simply shrugged, and when Robb was about to question further, the lot was quickly distracted by the arrival of Jon and Ygritte –with much teasing about manners from the latter. 

Theon trotted a few yards from the house towards the property's massive oak tree, and when he got there he sat himself upon the old swinging bench that hung from one of the many sturdy branches. It'd been a while since he'd been here, but he started to calm the instant he sat down on the worn wood, and even though it was cold outside, Sunny's little body was like a little heating pad against him. 

He began to gently rock the chair, hoping it would ease the residual tremors and shaky breaths from the little moment he'd had in the den. A blush crept upon his cheeks, because as his anxiety waned, his embarrassment grew. He shouldn't have acted like that, he knew, but he couldn't stand the way everyone was looking at him, he couldn't stand their judgment and disappointment, and he knew that if Jon and his friend had seen him and given him those same looks, he probably would've been too overwhelmed and passed out or cried like some sort of fool.

Why did they have to look at him like that? 

Gods... he wasn't sure he could go back in there. He didn't think he could face this evening's dinner. He could barely handle three people just now, how the hell could he expect himself to handle  _ten_ people later that evening? 

Theon was scared. He'd never been scared of the Starks before, certainly not of his best friend Robb, but he knew things were different this time. He knew he'd changed, and even though Ramsay insisted his changes were for the better, it was clear his family didn't think so. He knew they were angry and disgusted with him. He saw it in Robb's and Sansa's and Arya's eyes, and he was certain he was going to see it again when everyone else was there at dinner. 

What if Yara saw him like this? What if she saw him as Reek? Would she be angry, too? Reek was the good one, Ramsay had told him so. Why did everyone look like they wanted Theon back?

Theon started to shake, and a few tears sunk into Sunny's fur before he even realized he was crying. The little dog looked up at him and sniffed his face, then licked at the salty trails streaming down his cheeks, and she whined softly in her throat.

"Sunny..." He whimpered, voice cracking as he spoke. He hugged the dog a little tighter, emitting a grunt from her. "Sunny, I don't know what to do... 'm so scared, I can't do this, I can't be here, 'm not... I don't belong anymore, 'm not right here. 'M not- 'm not Theon, I can't do this. I want to go home, I want to go back to Dreadfort. 'M Reek..."

Sunny didn't know what he was saying, but she knew her master – former master? - was upset, and she could only wriggle in his arms and give him her constant kisses as he cried. 

"I miss them, gods, I wish they weren't mad at me," He said. He sniffled, then hugged the Pomeranian closer and buried his face in her fur, crying harder."Why can't they all be like you and the wolves?"

Theon didn't hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow over the sounds of his own muffled crying and Sunny's whines and panting, so when a heavy hand settled onto his shoulder, he jumped and gasped despite its gentleness. When he looked up, he was surprised to see a very concerned Robb standing there instead of Ramsay. 

He ducked his head a bit and kept his eyes down, avoiding contact with Robb's own, and he moved to set a squirming Sunny down into the snow. He cleared his throat, but his voice still rasped when he tried to say something, so he kept his mouth shut instead.

"Theon? Man, what's wrong?" Robb sat down beside him, and though he left two inches of space between them, he couldn't resist setting his hand upon Theon's surprisingly-bony back. Despite the thick sweater there, the feel of his friend's noticeably-less muscular back had him frowning. Brushing that off, he continued, tone still soft and careful as he could manage, as if he was trying to coax a rabbit out of hiding. "You can talk to me, Theon, about anything... everything. Whatever it is, I won't judge, I promise. I love you, you know? You're my best friend and my brother."

Theon wanted so badly to believe that, but something in the back of his head was insisting otherwise, was nagging at him and hissing that Robb was a liar.  _Liars are dangerous... lying gets you hurt..._ He absently reached up to finger his metal nametag for comfort, expecting the item to be there, but then he remembered both it and the collar were left back at home, far and away from his agitated fingertips. His hand dropped back to his lap and slithered away into the cover of his sleeve. 

When Theon didn't respond with anything more than a sniffle and an awkward fidget of his hands, Robb decided to try again, this time with much less 'intensity'. He couldn't talk to people like Sansa, hell, he was always more about "action first, words later", but for Theon he was willing to try whatever he could. 

He pulled his hand back to himself and clasped it with the other in his lap, leaning back against the back of the bench and taking on a more relaxed position. He tilted his head some to look at the oak branches above them as he rocked them back and forth a little more. "Man, this tree looks so damn naked without it's leaves, huh?" He chuckled and smiled fondly. "I remember, when we were little, me and you and Jon, we'd help dad to rake up all the leaves into these huuuge piles, and then we'd spend all afternoon diving into them and rolling around and 'swimming', ha. Arya always joined us, too, but Sansa, pfsh! She was ' _too much of a lady_ ' for that."

Robb glanced in Theon's direction and saw the other boy looking at him from the corner of one teary eye. When they made contact, that eye quickly darted back to the tiny dog paw prints in the snow. Robb didn't mind. 

"Remember that one year, when Sansa finally did join us, but we were mean and put slugs in her leaf pile and made her cry?"

Theon didn't respond for a moment, but then he gave a slow nod and murmured, "Yeah... and we all felt bad, so, so we made her a big apology card, and then we all signed it. Um, and then we did a tea party with her. I think. Right?"

Robb's smile softened and he nodded, even if Theon wasn't looking back at him to see it. "That's exactly right. We even got Arya to wear one of Sansa's princess crowns, and everyone had to pretend like the air in those teacups was the best tea we ever had. Sansa still has that card, you know. I went into her room last night to ask her something, and there it was on her mantle in all its crappy, wonderful, kids-crafted glory. 'Said she was thinking about taking it to her office so it could cheer her up when her job got her down. "

Theon briefly wondered if maybe he'd be forgiven if he made another card. He dashed the thought away, feeling like a child for even thinking it. "'M glad she kept it."

"Me, too." 

They sat there quietly for a few minutes, Robb's legs gently rocking them back and forth on the bench and Theon's eyes never looking anywhere other than his lap, the ground, or the occasional appearance of Sunny. 

After a moment, Robb spoke again. "I'm glad you're here today, man. I miss you so much these days." 

He saw Theon's lip quiver and watched his throat bob a few times, and those green eyes began to look a little misty again. The sight made him hesitate, but he continued, and he sounded a little sadder than before even though he tried not to. He couldn't help it now that he was finally getting to talk to Theon again. "I miss your calls and all your dumb text messages... you never send me any of those doofy pictures anymore like you used to. I miss hanging out with you, dude. Like, I dunno, like I was hoping I could get you to come up and spend the weekend with me last month, and the week-long break before that, and some other times, but you just... won't."  _Or, maybe it's not so_ _much_ _you won't as it is that_ _you_ ** _can't_** _._

When he looked at Theon again, he saw the ginger was crying some more, tear-streaked face screwed up and body starting to heave and shake a little. 

"Oh- shit, Theon, man, I didn't mean to-"

"'M sorry!" Theon rasped. "'M so sorry, Robb, please! Please don't be mad at me anymore, I can't take it, I can't! I can't, please forgive me. I can't help it if 'm good now..."

Robb pulled Theon into his arms, and though the smaller man flinched he didn't pull away. The eldest Stark held his friend close as he could without hurting or upsetting him, brushing off the initial awkwardness of being in this situation to focus solely on comforting Theon. He stroked the red curls nestled up against the underside of his chin and softly shushed at Theon. "Shh, shh, It's okay. I don't need to forgive you, mate, you've done nothing wrong, none of this is your fault. I promise, Theon, none of this is your fault. I don't... I don't blame  _you_ for anything. I just wish you'd talk to me, you know you can trust me, Theon." 

"' _Reek_ '..." Theon whispered, voice cracking again. "'M Reek..."

Robb furrowed his brows, not understanding what his friend said. The boy's voice was muffled with his face pressed against his chest like that, and the crying didn't help. "What?" He pulled back to hear him better and was met with wide, watery eyes staring blankly at him. The dull stare and trembling of his best friend made his stomach flip with unease, and he grew a little scared by what he saw looking back at him and what he heard.

"'M Reek... 'M not Theon, never- never Theon, Theon's bad..." Theon's stare dropped down to Robb's chest, but he wasn't really looking at anything. "'M Reek, 'm sorry, 'm sorry, I-I... Theon's not here, and 'm Reek, and you're all mad..."

Whatever he was saying was rushed and murmured, slurred, too, and Robb could barely make any of it out. The few words he did catch, though, had him frowning in concern and confusion, and he set his hands upon Theon's shoulders, trying to raise him some to look at him better. He spoke again, a little firmer. "Theon,  _w_ _h_ _a_ _t_ are you talking about? What does that mean, what's 'Reek'? I don't understand!"

Realization seemed to hit Theon then, and his eyes lost that thousand-yard stare they'd just had as he blinked a few times. His cheeks were red from the crying, but the color deepened from a blush forming out of embarrassment, and Robb could see the boy making a face and cringing at himself. 

"Theon?" When he reached out to touch Theon again, those pale, frail hands darted forward and halted him, taking a too-gentle hold of his fingers. They didn't let go, and Robb was glad for that, even if he could feel the slight tremors in them. 

Theon's voice was very quiet as he spoke again, and Robb had to try and listen a little harder to catch all of it. "I don't... um... I don't know, Robb. 'M so sorry. Things are- well, I don't know – I don't know what things are, and sometimes I don't-" His eyes darted as if he was looking for someone before focusing back on their hands. "-I don't know who I am? I mean. No. I know. I think. I know 'm... 'm Reek, but sometimes I get confused about that."

Robb shook his head. He was only becoming more frustrated and worried, but he didn't want to scare Theon so he kept his tone as steady and calm as he could manage. "I don't know who – or what – this 'Reek' is, why do you keep saying that? What is that? Is that your... um." He grunted and looked a little uncomfortable. "Is that his... er, name for you? Like, is that part of your guys' weird, sexual thing?"

"'M Reek..."

Robb grunted again. "No, you- Theon, why won't you tell me what that is, why do you keep saying that?"

"'M sorry..."

"Theon- agh. You know what, don't worry about it. Look, you be... whoever  _you_ wanna be, alright? You're my best friend and I love you, man, I promise I won't judge."

Theon seemed distracted as he stared down at Robb's hand in his own, long, bony fingers touching at thicker, shorter ones. Finally, he asked, "Are you mad at me? You all looked so mad at me. And disappointed, too."

"What? What are you- why would we be mad?" Then it finally hit him. Did Theon really think their looks of pity and worry were disgust and anger? Is that why he ran out of the house like that? "Oh... dude, no, no, you got it all wrong!"

The ginger looked up at him now, questioning expression on his face. 

"Theon- or, um, 'Reek? - whoever... we aren't mad at you. Heh, not even bratty little Arya, if you can believe it. But, uh, nah, man, we're just worried, that's all. Really...  _really_ worried. I gotta be honest, you don't look like our Theon, and seeing you today after however damn long it's been, well, it was a shock, to say the least. So, you need to understand why we're all concerned, dude. Now, I'm saying this as someone who loves you, yeah? I'm not trying to rag on you or be mean or anything, but, well... you don't look okay. Like, at all. You look sick, and... you just don't look like Theon..."

Theon wanted to tell him that that was because he was no longer Theon Greyjoy, that he was now Reek, but the words died in his throat and his lip only quivered. He watched Robb's expression change into one of sadness before his eyes wandered down to those big, warm hands tracing their fingertips over the bony hills of his knuckles. 

"You're so skinny and pale. You've been shaking the whole time you've been here, and you got all these scars and marks... You look so timid, and you're so damn quiet. Your eyes aren't the same anymore, either. What's he doing to you, man?"

Theon couldn't look away from their hands, too ashamed and conflicted to meet Robb's eyes. "He... he takes care of me, Robb. He does, he's good. He's good, I promise. I love him."

Robb knew that was a damn lie, hell, all the proof he needed was right in front of him!

 But what could he do? 

He didn't know how to handle anything like this, he certainly never thought he'd ever have to be in this sort of situation, but here it was happening to his own best friend. Theon was... changed. And not for the better. Something was very wrong with his brother, but he didn't know what to do about it, and he began to fret that maybe he was just making things worse, that maybe he was only getting Theon to shut him out more. He'd need help, and he'd have to do this carefully, subtly, something he wasn't very good at on his own. 

Hestood from the bench and offered an awkward smile down at Theon. "Hey, you wanna maybe go take a little walk around the property with Greywind and Sunny? I feel like stretching my legs."

Theon didn't look up at him, not for longer than a split second, but he nodded and stood, too, his arms hugging around himself. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good. C'mon," Robb began to walk beside Theon, making sure to keep his pace slowed to match his friend's own. He whistled for Sunny and Greywind, and soon the two were leading a little parade of not just their pets, but the rest of the wolves, too. 

Theon enjoyed the company, and as they all walked around part of the Winterfell property, he realized it was genuinely the safest he'd felt in a very long time. Maybe he didn't want to go back to Dreadfort just yet?

 

* * *

 

 

The twelve of them sat around the Stark family's massive dinner table, laughing and chatting and just having a good time. Theon and Ramsay even joined in with their own remarks or stories here and there, the latter more-so than the former, despite the earlier awkwardness that had occurred. 

...A lot of awkwardness, actually. Baby Rickon didn't recognize Theon right away, and Catelyn audibly gasped when she saw how much he'd changed. Even Ned looked a bit jarred upon seeing him, and the man's contempt for Ramsay became obvious despite his best efforts to hide it. Jon was clearly shocked, too, and, much like his older brother, the sadness and questions were evident all over his face. Ygritte, though, had nearly gotten into a full-blown argument with Ramsay. Her boldness had her interrogating Theon a little too much about some of the bruising she saw on him, and the Bolton son's response was to rag on her "trailer trash, wildling" upbringing. 

It was embarrassing, to say the least. 

But, Jon had gotten Ygritte calmed down, and Theon had done the same for Ramsay, though he could still see the smoldering disdain in his master's eyes every time they looked in Ygritte's direction. 

That aside, everyone seemed to be doing alright, and they were, for the most part, happy to see each other. The atmosphere made Theon feel very much at home, almost nostalgic, even, and he realized this was one of the things he missed most about being here. The fighting, he could do without, as that just reminded him more of his father's home back in Pyke than anything else. 

The rest of this, though, gave him a pang of longing, and he wouldn't admit it to himself, but there was a small part of him nagging about how lonely it sometimes – often – felt when it was just him and Ramsay. 

The table was loud with laughter at Jon's retelling of a recent encounter he'd had with a rather belligerent perp, and as Theon was giggling, he felt a warm hand take hold of his own under the table and stroke the knobby knuckles with its thumb. He glanced to his left and saw Ramsay looking at him, expression unreadable, but Theon could see a hint of affection to it. At least, he thought he could. The ginger smiled shyly and gave Ramsay's hand a squeeze, earning a smirk from the other man. 

Ramsay leaned over to whisper in Theon's ear, and when he did, the husky voice and lips brushing against his pet's skin caused the smaller man's cheeks to flush a light pink and a shiver to run through his body. "You're alright? No... 'mishaps' from earlier that I should know about, darling?"

_Oh..._  Theon shook his head and moved to whisper into Ramsay's ear this time. "No, no, sir, nothing. Well. Um, I'll tell you later, okay? Are you having a nice time, Rams?"

Ramsay pulled back with the smile still on his face and nodded. "Sure, I am." He then turned to face the rest of the table, speaking up once Jon's story had finished and the rest of the laughter had died down. "I'd like to thank you all for having me and Theon over tonight. It's been a wonderful evening so far."

Ned eyed Ramsay for a moment, then offered an unconvincing smile. Catelyn did the same, though her own smile was a little more genuine and was directed towards Theon instead. She said, "We're glad to have you. Thank you for coming."

Ramsay didn't miss what he felt was a slight towards him, and his grip on Theon's hand tightened just a tad. He felt the boy tremble immediately in response. 

"Ah," Theon spoke up, a shy, awkward smile on his face. "We're just glad to be here. I-It was Ramsay's idea, actually. He got it all set up."

Catelyn's mouth gave a slight twinge at the corner of her lips. "Ah, is that so? Thank you, Ramsay, good thinking."

Ramsay wasn't dumb, he could practically see the distaste oozing from her, but his grip around Theon's hand lessened significantly, and from the corner of his eye he saw the other man's shoulders losing some of their tension. It wasn't his pet he was angry with, he knew that, and he appreciated his Reek's efforts to make the family kinder towards him. Still, those damn Starks... the nerve of them to be so disrespectful and accusing, even after he was nice enough to bring Theon here for a visit. He couldn't wait to head home.

"It's no trouble, Catelyn. I figured it'd been long enough since he last saw you Starks." He feigned another smile and a chuckle, tone meant as a joking one.

Ygritte didn't see the humor, though, and she sniped at him. "Oh, you got to make that decision for him, eh? What other ones do you make for him?"

Ramsay snapped his head around to face Ygritte, gaze intense and nostrils flaring just a bit, jaw set. Theon winced and his eyes looked down at his lap, a bit of shame and embarrassment filling his face.

Robb nearly choked on the bite of food he'd taken, and he tried his best to hold back a laugh. It wasn't funny, really, the whole situation wasn't at all, but he couldn't help being grateful for Ygritte's brashness. He was just glad someone else was calling Ramsay out on his shit, even if it was only as passive-aggressive comments. 

"Ygritte, please," Jon said softly. He set a hand on hers and gave her a pleading look.

The cop gritted her teeth, wanting to say something more to Ramsay, but Jon sated her and she bit her tongue. "Sorry," she mumbled. She wasn't.

The rest of the meal was a little less jovial than before, and both Ramsay and Theon sat quietly while the rest of the table carried on. Theon smiled and laughed every now and again, but not nearly as much as before, and he spent much of that time wishing they could all just have some nice, big, family dinner instead of everyone acting like there was some intervention or something they thought he needed. 

Ramsay was absolutely livid, and he sat there without saying another word. He spent his time dwelling on violent thoughts, hoping they'd pass the time quicker. 

When dinner was finally done and people were excusing themselves from the table, everyone was more than a little relieved. 

As Theon was pushing up out of his seat, Catelyn startled him with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her.

"Honey, will you help me with the dishes?" She asked.

Theon glanced over her shoulder at Ramsay for permission, and though the flick of his eyes was brief, Cat didn't miss it. When Ramsay gave a careless shrug, Theon nodded and moved to head over to the sink. "Yes. Um, sure, sure."

Once the table was cleared and everyone else had dispersed from the kitchen, Catelyn headed back over to a jittery little Theon. He'd already filled up one sink with water and had begun to wash a few plates in a very careful, delicate manner that had her snickering and reaching for his oversized sleeves. "Dear, just pull these up-!" 

Theon dropped the plate back into the water and started to protest, but she already had both his sleeves up before he could stop her. When his left forearm was bared, the amount of bandaging had her gasping.

Carefully, she reached for that trembling arm and held it, one hand stroking its fingertips along the bandages with feather-light touches. "Theon, what happened here?"

The ginger stammered, and he looked back over his shoulder to see if they were alone before looking back at Catelyn. He didn't pull his arm away, though, too absorbed in the gentleness of his adoptive mother's touch. He didn't realize how much he'd missed her until now, and it hit him with a hard pang in his chest. "I... I don't know, it's nothing, really..."

"Theon..." 

"I- um- well, you see, I was playing- I was playing with the girls – you know, Rams' dogs -, and one of 'em got me pretty good, heh... No, don't open it-!!"

Catelyn had already pried the bandages open while Theon was making his excuses, and another gasp left her as she saw the raw, but healing, pink wound that was hidden under there. Her blue eyes darted back up to Theon and she whispered, "How?"

His own eyes were already welling with frightened tears and shame, and he began to breathe heavily. In his building panic, he snatched up one of her arms and gripped it tight enough to bruise, voice laced with desperation. "Please!! You weren't supposed to see it!! P-please, please, Cat, you can't say anything to anyone, you can't!!" 

She was startled and, honestly, a little terrified by his sudden panic and desperation. In all her years of knowing him, she'd never seen Theon like this before, and it was almost as if some sort of ghost of the man had come here to visit instead. Swallowing her shock and the ache of Theon's grasp, Catelyn pried the boy's bony fingers from her arm and took that hand in her own, squeezing it as she spoke sternly but with care. "Theon... I don't know what's going on between you and Ramsay, but I know it isn't good. I know you know that, too – no, don't shake your head at me, you  _do_ know that. Now, I can't... I can't make you do anything you don't want to do or aren't ready to do, but I just want you to know that I care a great deal about you. This whole family does. You're like one of my own children, and if something were to happen... Anyway. I just want you to realize that there are people who love you and who will be willing to help in any way they can. Do you understand me?"

Theon heard every word of what she said, but he couldn't quite focus. He kept looking back over his shoulder and around to see if Ramsay was anywhere near, and it was hard to concentrate on her speaking when the beating of his heart seemed so damn loud. 

"Theon-"

He turned back to her, tears slipping from his wide eyes and lip quivering as he hugged his left arm to his stomach. "Please..." _Don't get me in trouble..._

She stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. Gently pulling his arm away from him, she began to re-wrap it, and he could see that she was holding back her own tears and hear how her voice was starting to strain as she said, "Let this air out when you get home. You can bandage it again later, but it will need to start airing out if you want it to heal properly."

"Oh... yes'm."

Catelyn held his arm for a moment longer and stared down at the scars and stray bruises that laced her child's skin. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted the limb and pressed a motherly kiss to the bandaging, then released him and went back to the sink. She eyed the dishes for a moment, then turned and handed him the drying rag. "Here, I'll wash and you dry and put the dishes away. You remember where they all go, yes?"

Theon nodded. He quickly wiped the tears away from his face and set to work on drying the first several dishes. When Catelyn rested her temple on his shoulder, he didn't brush her away but instead did the same, his own head resting against hers. He tried not to cry again.

 

* * *

 

 

"There you are," Ramsay said. He'd nearly ran right into Theon as they were both coming down the hallway, and he looked just as tense and frustrated as he had earlier. Those feelings seemed to intensify when he glanced down and saw that Theon's sweater sleeves were rolled up with his bandaged arm on display for all to see. 

It took Theon a moment to realize what Ramsay was bristling at, but then he noticed his sleeves and quickly fumbled to get them pulled back down again. "I-I'm sorry, I was helping with the dishes and Cat rolled 'em up, and I just forgot!" He gave a little squeak as Ramsay grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into one of the rooms down the hall.

Ramsay gave a quick scowl upon realizing it was that little brat Bran's room, but no one was in here, and he didn't want them to be bothered. He closed the door and stomped back over to Theon where he got intimidatingly close to the boy's face. He hissed, "Did she see?"

Theon winced and huddled in on himself a bit, eyes flitting off to the side when he was unable to look into Ramsay's own. "No..."

Ramsay's hand flew up to cup Theon's jaw in a painful grasp, forcing the red-head to make eye-contact as he glared daggers at him. His tone was low and dangerous, a warning that sent a cold shiver all along Theon's spine. "Don't you lie to me, Reek. You know I always know when you're lying."

"She-she did, sir. She saw." 

A muscle in Ramsay's jaw twitched and he blinked slow, the grip from his hand tightening for a moment. He ground his teeth and gave a steady exhale as he tried to calm himself, but Theon could see the rage building there. The boy whimpered, and his knees buckled a little underneath him, and if it weren't for Ramsay holding him up by the jaw he'd probably be on the floor. 

Another slow, angry exhale, and then Ramsay was speaking again. "Did she ask questions?"

Theon hesitated, but then he nodded and spoke quickly, voice rising as he got more and more upset. "She did... She did, but I swear, Rams, I never told her anything, I-I didn't say anything!! I didn't say anything to Robb or Sansa, either, I promise! 'M your good little Reek, I promise, I-!"

"Shh, shh, shh," Ramsay hushed him, and the hand around Theon's jaw moved so that it and the other could both lovingly cup the boy's face now. Ramsay's thumbs wiped a few stray, scared tears away, and the anger that had been about to boil over had suddenly vanished from his features as he cooed softly. "Enough, Reek, settle down. No need to get loud and catch their attention, hm? This is just between you and me. No one else."

Theon nodded and swallowed, eyes closing at the careful touch. He whimpered, "I was good, I swear it, Rams... they asked, but I said nothing 'cuz 'm yours and 'm good. 'M so sorry I made you mad..."

Ramsay brushed Theon's bangs out of his face and sighed before pulling the smaller man into a rather tight embrace. Theon coughed, and he could feel him tremble as he began to stroke at his hair. "No, no, it's not you I'm mad at, my love. In fact, I'm very pleased with your behavior this evening, you've done very well. Ah. I suppose as "well" as someone like you could do, ha. You make your master very happy when you look out for our best interests, darling."

Theon buried his face in Ramsay's chest and weakly hugged back. He was still rattled and upset, but he was relieved at knowing he hadn't disappointed his lover. 

Arya, on the other hand, was disgusted and more than a little worried as she ran off to go find her older siblings. 

She'd been passing through the hallway when she noticed that the door to Bran's room hadn't been closed all the way, and being as curious as she was, she had to stop and listen to see just who was talking to who in there. She'd been expecting some fun gossip between her siblings, or maybe something funny to use to tease Jon about his obvious crush on Ygritte, but instead she was shown a very angry Ramsay and a seemingly-terrified Theon. 

When she'd peeked through the crack in the door and saw the way Ramsay was grabbing Theon, the way he was snarling in his face, it filled her with fury and despair that she could do nothing about, and she had to resist with all her might not to just barge in and stop what was going on. 

She wanted to, though, so badly... but she was scared. 

As tough as she was, Ramsay Bolton frightened her, and she didn't like being around him. There was something off about the way his smile never met his eyes, the way that icy stare seemed to pierce into everything it looked at, the way he made Theon tremble just by simply standing near him... 

She found Robb in the den with Talisa, Jon, and Ygritte, and right away the other four could tell something was up. They went and got Sansa and their parents from the kitchen, and once everyone was together, Arya explained what she had witnessed, and afterwards, Catelyn confessed to finding out about that wound on Theon's arm and how he had reacted to her doing so. 

Robb tried to storm out of the den, ready to confront Ramsay, but Talisa and his mother held him back, reasoning that it wouldn't be safe for anyone. They didn't know how unpredictable Ramsay was, and they had no idea if he had any sort of weapon on him, for starters. And what if Theon reacted poorly and tried to get involved? What if he got hurt?

They were at a loss until Sansa suggested they try to get Theon somewhere private and speak to him, offer him help and try to approach this slowly and carefully just as Robb had attempted to do earlier. The family agreed, and Ned offered to keep Ramsay occupied while Theon was being spoken to. 

Ramsay was startled by Ned Stark calling his name from somewhere out in the hall, and he released Theon from his arms to go and investigate. "Yes?" He said, stepping out from behind the bedroom door. 

"Ah! There you are, I was looking for you." Ned came down the hall and greeted him at the door. He quirked a brow. "What are you doing in Bran's room?"

Ramsay's own brow raised just a tad and he eyed Ned questioningly. "Just having a private chat with Theon. What did you need, Mr. Stark?"

"'Ned', please. Can you come out to my shed with me?"

Ramsay squinted. "Why?"

_Suspicious thing, aren't you._  "Theon told me you really like hunting, that you're damn good at it. Heard that from your father as well."

The Bolton son was indeed rather suspicious, but the comment did catch his attention. A smug grin spread across his face. "I don't normally like to brag, but I am quite the expert with skinning knives."

Ned smiled, but there was an angry burning in his gut as he remembered the wound Catelyn described seeing on Theon's arm. He wanted to reach out and wring that cocky little bastard's neck, but instead his hand made a sweeping gesture towards the front entrance. "Perfect, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Shall we, then?"

"We shall," Ramsay started in the direction of the front door, feeling a little pleased at getting to do something fun around here, finally.

Theon moved to follow along after Ramsay, and the sight of him doing so bothered Ned, saddened him, even. Where was that little spitfire brat he helped raise, the one that was so loud and defiant and strong? How had he been reduced to nothing more than an obedient puppy waiting for the next kick? 

He stopped Theon, inwardly cringing at the way the boy flinched when he placed a hand on his chest to halt him. 

Ramsay stopped, too, turning to look back with that squint on his face again. 

"Er, Theon, I think Robb wanted to chat with you again, something about visiting him this summer, I think?"

"Oh, um-"

"He's in his room. Ramsay and I will be out at my hunting shed if anyone needs either of us." He stepped over to Ramsay and continued leading him out of the house, carrying on about how he was having trouble properly skinning his pelts. Right away, Ramsay was distracted again.

Theon watched them go, then slunk off to go Robb's room upstairs.

"This is so dumb, he's not going even to listen! He's- he's got, like, like, shit, what is it called when victims like their captors, or they relate to them or something? 'Stockholm Disease'?"

Sansa rolled her eyes at her brother. "It's 'Stockholm Syndrome'. And don't go  _diagnosing_ him with anything, we don't know everything yet."

"We know he's getting his arse beat by that Bolton cunt!" Ygritte said.

Jon sighed and held up his hands in a silencing manner. "Everyone, please, can we all just calm down? It won't do us any good to act like this, we'll just scare Theon off."

"But can't you and Ygritte do something, man? You guys are cops, just go and arrest that asshole!"

Ygritte scoffed. "Oh, believe me, Robb, I'd love to slap some cuffs on Ramsay Bolton, but unfortunately, we can't. We're kinda screwed right now."

Robb frowned. "What? Why??"

"For one, we're off-duty, and despite being cops, we can't just go cuffing people whenever we feel like it. Two, we haven't actually witnessed Ramsay doing anything. It's all guesses and hearsay, and since Theon hasn't said anything either, well..."

The eldest Stark son threw his hands up and growled in frustration. "That's such bullshit, he's right here in this fucking house, y-"

A knock at the door silenced Robb and everyone else, and all eyes were now on Theon as he shyly stepped into the room. The red-head frowned when he saw there was more than just the one Stark. "Oh... Ned only said Robb wanted to talk to me?"

Sansa patted a spot beside her on Robb's bed. "He does, it's okay. Come here, please?"

Theon hesitated, warily eyeing the other four before closing the door behind himself and going to sit down by the pillows at the head of the bed, putting a short distance between himself and everyone else. He didn't say anything, and his eyes were downcast to the sheets. 

There was an awkward, heavy silence in the room before Sansa spoke up again, soft and sweet. "Theon... you know we all love you, right?"

"It's true, even I'm kinda fond of you," Ygritte said with a snort.

A loose thread was sticking out of the stitching on the comforter and Theon suddenly found it very, very interesting. He played with it between two of his fingers as he drew his legs up against his chest and wrapped his other arm around his shins, hiding the lower half of his face behind his knees.

Sansa wasn't discouraged. She continued. "We love you very much. We've missed you so much these last several months, and we're so happy to be seeing you again no matter what you might think. We're worried, though."

"No need to be. Rams takes good care of me. 'M in good hands." He was muffled by his knees, but they understood him clearly, and both Sansa and Jon had to silence Robb and Ygritte before they could begin to passionately disagree with him.

"See, that's the thing, Theon; we don't think he's very good for you at all."

Theon shook his head at Jon, then went back to his thread-picking, fingers getting more fidget-y. "You all don't even- you don't even know him, but you're all so mean. You're all so mean, and I just don't understand it."

Robb inhaled slowly but sharply, and he rubbed hard at his face. Gods, he just wished he could make Theon see.

Sansa sighed and bent to grab her messenger bag off the floor. She pulled a folder from it and flipped through the contents for a moment before taking out a sheet of paper and passing it to Theon. "Will you look at that for me, please? It's called a 'power and control wheel', it might be helpful for you."

Theon glanced down at the paper placed by his feet.  _'Using i_ _ntimidation'… 'Using isolation'…_  He read over it, finger nervously picking at the thread until he pried it loose while his other arm hugged his legs so tightly the limb began to turn white. His eyes welled up the more he read, and soon a few tears were slipping down his cheeks and he was giving tiny, muffled squeaks and whimpers behind his knees. 

"Theon, do any of the things listed on that chart sound... familiar to you? Have you dealt with any of that?" Sansa asked after a minute.

The little Greyjoy shook his head and turned away from the paper. He didn't want to look at that stupid chart anymore. Why were they doing this to him? Why were they so against Ramsay? The man couldn't help being the way he was, it wasn't his fault that no one here was trying to understand his Ramsay or their relationship! They didn't know him, and they didn't know how loving and caring he really, truly was. If only they could see that, then maybe they wouldn't be so quick with their judgments.

But a very small, quiet part of him screamed to looked at the paper again. It screamed at him about how so much of what was on that chart was way too familiar. It screamed about how if Ramsay didn't hurt him and everything was fine, then why did he panic when Catelyn saw his wound, when people started approaching him and asking questions? It screamed about how none of these people had ever been malicious to him in any way that he could remember, so why would they start now? 

It was a very small, quiet part of him, but those screams were more than loud, and it made him feel disoriented. 

His free hand reached up to fidget with the metal tag only to be reminded once again that he'd left his collar at home. He began to rock a little bit, back and forth against the pillows there, and he started to whisper to himself under his breath. " _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek..._ 'm Reek... _'m Reek, and I-I rhyme with weak... peak... cheek... seek..._ "

Robb grunted and gestured over at Theon. "He's doing that again! He did it outside, too, what is that??"

Sansa shrugged and pulled the chart paper back over to herself. She put it into the folder and looked at Robb. "It might be some kind of coping activity he's given himself? I think we've overwhelmed him, maybe we should stop..."

Jon nodded and stood. "Yeah, we're just gonna scare him away if we keep this up."

Robb stood, too, clearly upset. He'd done his best to be patient and understanding since Theon had gotten here, and he'd tried to talk with him earlier, tried to make sense of it, but this was all becoming too frustrating and too... too real for him. He didn't know how to be calm with something like this, and he couldn't understand how everyone else was appearing so relaxed about it. "No! We can't, we can't just let him go back home with that prick!" He wheeled around on Theon and grabbed the boy's thin shoulders a little rougher than he meant to, and he shook him. Theon cried out and tried to pull away, hands flying up in submission, but Robb didn't let go, too frustrated and sad to be properly rational. "Fuck, man, don't you see what he's doing to you?? You can't go back to that, stay with us, Jon and Ygritte will keep him away-! Agh! Let go!"

Ygritte and Jon had a hold on Robb now and they pried him away from the smaller man, dragging him across the room to put distance between the two of them. 

Theon curled up on the bed and huddled in on himself. He shuddered and quivered violently as he started up his 'Reek' mantra all over again, stumbling over a few hitched breaths and sobs.

Sansa shot up from the bed and stormed over to Robb, hissing, "What were you thinking?! You can't just do that to someone, let alone someone who's experienced what he might've!" 

Robb glared at his sister, and then he tried to at Theon, but the moment he cast it onto his friend, his glare melted into a look of sympathy and regret. His eyes glossed over and he swallowed thick, going slack in the two cops' hold as he rasped, "I just want my brother back..."

The other three looked at each other. They all wanted Theon back, and they wanted Ramsay to face the justice they knew he deserved. They just weren't sure how they were going to get any of that yet, and unfortunately, like many things, they knew it would be easier said than done.

Meanwhile, Ramsay and Ned were out in the woods surrounding Winterfell Ranch, a short distance away from the main property but far enough that they had to bring a few lanterns with them. 

They'd previously been in Ned's hunting shed, but the doe that was in there had been hunted earlier that morning, and Ramsay deemed it too "late" to use it as a  _proper_  demonstration. They needed a fresh specimen, one that was still warm, and so here they were now, huddled around the fat doe Ned had just shot for them. 

Ramsay whistled a cheery little tune to himself as he cleanly, skillfully carved at the doe's skin, smooth as silk. 

Ned was honestly impressed. And quite a bit unsettled.

Jarred as he was by Ramsay's skill, Ned wasn't surprised when he learned that Ramsay had brought his own skinning knife. Ned had offered to let Ramsay borrow one of his, but the other man scoffed and went to his truck where he pulled out that fancy blade from the glove box. Ramsay had showed it off with pride, even bragged that it had been a gift from Theon, and Ned had to reign in the rage he felt at wondering just how often the little creep had practiced that knife on the one who'd gifted it to him. 

"See? 'Practically peels right off, doesn't it? Nearly clean, too, you won't be caked in blood or anything. Well. Unless you want to be! Then you just have to use one of your blades, hm?" Ramsay laughed.

Ned snorted and followed along, but his thoughts were mainly of what the repercussions would be if he cracked this kid in the head with one of the lanterns and then buried him somewhere off the property.

"Did you catch that, Mr. Stark? Ah, 'Ned', sorry."

Ned came back from his thoughts and nodded. "And your little comment about my knives."

Ramsay grinned. It was probably meant to be playful, but in the lamp light it looked ridiculously sinister. "I'm only teasing, sir. I  _do_ suggest getting one of these, though."

"I'll look into it."

They weren't out there for very long. The doe-hunting had eaten up most of their time, and when it came to the skinning Ramsay was surprisingly quick and efficient with it. They carried the doe back on a tarp, and Ramsay helped Ned to properly store it once they were in the shed.

Ned was again impressed, and still very much unsettled by the younger man. He wasn't happy about sending Theon back home with Ramsay, but he'd be glad to get the latter man off his property and away from his family. He just hoped that maybe the others had managed to get through to Theon with their little talk.

After using the shed sink to rinse his hands and knife, Ramsay headed into the house and immediately went to look for Theon. It was dark, he was tired, the Starks were irritating, and he was ready to leave. He ran into a startled Arya as they were both coming down the upstairs hallway, and he delighted in the way she backed off a few steps as he approached her.

"Aren't- aren't you supposed to be out with my dad?" Arya stammered, noticing the hint of dried blood underneath some of his fingernails. She tried to peek around him to see if her father had followed.

"I was, but I finished with his deer. I don't know where he wandered off to after we came in. Do you know where Theon is?" 

She glanced back over her shoulder at Robb's room. "He's in there, he's sleeping."

"Sleeping? I didn't realize he was so tired." He stepped around her, then paused to give her a smile. She hated it, and she visibly shuddered. "Thank you." He lifted a hand to give her a little pat on the head, but she was already darting down the hall to go find her dad. Shrugging, he continued to Robb's room, and just as he was about to knock, the sound of muffled murmuring reached him. He raised a brow and leaned in close, cupping his hand against the door and pressing his ear to it.

"Why can't he stay here? Can't he just at least stay the night or something?" Robb said.

Sansa spoke next. "Honey, I don't think he will. We got him too rattled. I hate to say it, but we'll just have to try again later..."

"Oh, what, after he's already dead??" 

"Robb, that's not fair," Jon chided. "Look, I know you're upset, but you're not the only one. This isn't up to us, okay? Not entirely. Theon needs to do his part, too, and we can't just force him to. You have to understand."

Ramsay didn't bother to hear more, already fuming. What the fuck had those rats gotten up to while he was out? He rapped his knuckles hard and fast against the door, barely waiting for the surprised  _'come in_ ' that followed, and when he entered he was met with faces that looked just a little too guilty for his liking. Well. Two faces looked guilty, the other two looked like the faces of people ready to brawl. Taking a deep, steady breath, he exhaled and smiled at the four standing around in front of him, and then at his precious pet curled up on the bed. 

"Bored him to sleep, did you?"

"Yeah, ha," Jon said, discomfort on his features. He was on his guard, though.

Ramsay strode between the four and got to the bed where he leaned down over Theon and gently shook him. Theon groaned and huffed, then jolted awake and looked up with Ramsay with wide eyes. "Time to leave, baby, you can sleep in the truck."

Theon rose when Ramsay backed off, and when he saw Robb and the other three were still there, he tensed up and stayed on the bed. Did... did Ramsay know what happened? He didn't remember much after Robb had shaken him, and he hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until Ramsay had woken him up. 

He hesitated a moment longer, then crawled off the bed and moved to give each of them a good-bye hug, reluctant at first, then more insistent. Jon and Ygritte's were brief, and Sansa held him like he was glass. Robb's hug was long and almost bone-crushing, but it felt good and the little Greyjoy didn't want to leave the embrace. 

"You should visit soon, okay?" Robb murmured. "Been forever me and you didn't go down to that arcade. They got new cabinets and even installed some better tv's for both the console and pc games." 

Theon managed a tiny smile. He couldn't remember what arcade Robb meant, at least, not clearly, but the thought made him feel a little better. "Yeah, okay."

They then headed downstairs where Theon gave the rest of the Starks and Talisa their hugs and goodbyes. Ramsay received little more than a few cold "thank you for coming's", and those had all been from Catelyn and Ned out of politeness.

Then, Theon spent the last couple of minutes there saying goodbye to Sunny and the wolves. He was so glad to finally see his little dog again, and gods was he going to miss her. Maybe... maybe, if he could keep his master in a good mood, maybe he could convince Jon to bring her back down to Dreadfort? He hoped so.

 

* * *

 

 

When they were finally back in the truck and about a half-mile down the road from Winterfell, Ramsay gave a slow, heavy exhale and sat back against the driver's seat. He glanced over at the passenger's side, expecting Theon to be dozing off but the boy was wide awake. 

"Reek," he started, and godsdammit did it feel right to be using that name again. "Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

Theon was quiet, eyes wide and straight ahead on the passing road while his hands fidgeted nervously in his lap. 

Ramsay lowered the volume on the radio and spoke with a little more insistence to his tone. "Maybe you didn't hear me, so I'll ask again.  _Reek_. Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

Theon whimpered and still stared straight ahead, but he nodded. "Yes. Yessir, I- well. Um..." His breath quickened and his hands fretted more. "Promise you won't be mad?"

Ramsay's fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter and his jaw tensed. He was growing impatient. "That depends on what you don't want me to get mad at, Reek."

His pet sat there for a long minute, quiet and awkward, but then he finally gathered his nerve and answered. He explained how often he'd been talked to, and just what it was he'd been talked to about. He told Ramsay about everyone's concerns and how they had suggested this help or that, said how loved he is, and how dangerous this relationship was for him. 

He also told Ramsay how he never said a thing to them about the relationship no matter how much they pried, that he only stood up for Ramsay, that he was a good boy and had tried his best to be pretend to be Theon.

He talked about how what should have been a nice evening had instead been ruined by everyone being so disrespectful, and that maybe they should have gone home or just stayed home.

Ramsay kept quiet throughout Theon's rambling, growing angrier with each relayed detail, at least, until Theon had gone on about how good he'd been. He had the utmost confidence that Reek wouldn't dare lie to him, and knowing his pet had stayed loyal even during so many confrontations with the Starks was enough to sate some of his rage. 

It didn't touch the feelings of dread and paranoia that roiled in his belly, though. His thoughts of massacring the Starks and that "wildling" cunt had quickly dissolved into plans about what he could do to keep them away from Reek –  _his_ Reek. There was no way he was going to let them ruin the relationship he had with Theon, no way he was going to let them plant their poison in his pet's head and make him lose loyalty. They could not ruin everything the Bolton son had worked so hard for, especially not when his Reek was nearly perfect. 

No. No matter what, the boy was his, always and forever, until he was rotting in the ground, and there was nothing the Starks or anyone else could do about it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone seemed in character. I had a harder time writing this than I thought! I also hope Theon/Reek didn't come off as too whiny or anything.   
> Gah.  
> Again, thank you for reading!


	19. Cherry Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from this song of the same name - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdSCCwtNEjA .
> 
> Be warned, there's sappiness, romance, and love-making ahead, ahhhhh!   
> Oh, and also, there's a rimjob in there, too, for those of you that don't like that sort of thing. ;m

Ramsay lie awake in bed that night, mind going a million miles a minute as he stared up at the shadowy ceiling. 

He was angry. Agitated, even, and he couldn't get his mind of that evening's earlier events. Of-fucking-course this would happen to him, what a fucking idiot he was... he tried to do something nice for his Reek, tried to give him a special reward, only to have it blow up in his face and nearly cost him everything. He was more than respectful to those wolf-loving cunts, he even let them spend time alone with his beautiful, well-behaved Reek, and what do they go and do? They try to stage an intervention behind his back. They tried trick him, and they tried to corrupt his Reek's weak little mind, tried to turn his pet against him. He only wanted to treat his baby to a nice, happy time with that stupid family, but it just served to bite him in the ass.

A quick, bitter laugh escaped him.  _It just goes show what kindness will get you._

Ramsay knew they weren't going to stop, either. No, those selfish pricks wanted perfect little "Theon" back and all to themselves. They wanted to take what wasn't theirs all because they saw how much better Reek was doing with him and it made them jealous. It was disgusting, and they should've been ashamed of themselves.

A soft sigh from somewhere off to his right caught his attention, and he glanced down at the source of the sound. His pet was at the foot of the bed, curled up on the end of the mattress rather than nestled in his pile of sheets, and he must have been dreaming because quiet little noises left his lips and one hand gently twitched like it was grabbing for something. 

Ramsay sat up to get a better look at the dreaming boy and watched as he moaned and moved in his sleep. 

His poor Reek... the boy had been exhausted from today, and even though he'd nearly passed out the moment they'd gotten home, his dedicated pet still tried his best to give his master head before they had officially retired from the evening. Reek had been given the option to go to bed, but no, his pet had insisted on doing something nice for his owner, and wasn't that just so damn considerate? Ramsay had admired the commitment, and though he was still fretting about that terrible dinner visit, he'd been able to relax for a while and eventually climax all because of Reek's hard work and efforts. 

Ramsay rewarded that behavior by letting Reek sleep up on the bed tonight, and the boy had pretty much fallen asleep the instant he curled himself up at the end of the bed. He'd been sleeping deeply, quiet up until now from his dreaming. A few words escaped his lips, the only intelligible ones being something about the girls, but otherwise he was mostly silent save for the stray groan or hum. 

He reached out to brush a few stray locks away from his lover's face, and he eyed the way those soft, pink lips just barely moved with each breath he took. The boy was lovely in the moonlight, perhaps even gorgeous, and the sight made the young Bolton feel like he was looking at a magnificent piece of artwork. Reek's skin was pale like white marble, and it was littered with scars that practically glistened and bruises that seemed to darken and bloom. That frail body was bony and delicate, like that of a little baby bird's, and Ramsay could see the way he trembled, hear each soft, shaky, rasping breath as they rattled from his lungs. 

Ramsay moved himself around on the bed so that he could lie there with his head close to Reek's and see his face better. He listened to those little breaths huffing out of those pretty lips and was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of silencing them. What a solution that would be, wouldn't it? It would make Reek's soul his and his alone forever, and neither the Starks nor anyone else would ever be able to take the boy away from him. And it would be so easy to do, too, almost laughably so...

He could pluck Reek up into his arms now, carry him to a filled bathtub and then submerge him under all that water, hold his weak body down as he tried to struggle free. He could practically feel the soaked clothes that would cling to his body, and he could feel the sting of the scratches that Reek's nails would leave behind in his skin. He could see those green eyes as clear as day, but they would be half-lidded and clouding over under the water as they stared up at him.

Or, he could just slip his big, strong hands around that smooth little neck this very moment and squeeze harder and harder until his baby had no more breaths. He'd done it before, and he'd nearly killed him during that time. He could do it for real now if he wanted. Just have to... just have to press his thumbs into that fragile little hyoid bone and break it, crush that windpipe like it was nothing but paper in his hands. Blue skin, a necklace of bruises, and tiny red pinpoints surrounding a dull ring of green. 

Maybe he could just slit that milky throat? Draw a clean red line with his knife and watch as all that blood would paint his lover with such a beautiful color. Slice the neck so deeply that his breaths would come out through the wound and sound like wet rattling. He could hear it. He could hear those shaky, watery breaths and he could see how vibrant the red would be. Gods, the contrast of it against Reek's skin...

His pet would probably let him do any of these. No doubt, he'd look betrayed and confused and would be wondering just what he did wrong, just what it was he was being punished for, but he'd let his master take his breath away in whatever way he wanted.

Reek is such a good boy like that...

But where would his good boy go? Where would that baby bird's bones be laid to rest? His lover always did adore this property, and wasn't there some moss bed by a stream he often mentioned? Perhaps he would like to be buried there? That spot was hidden away, a nice, secluded little secret of theirs, and no one would ever find his Reek again. He would rest peacefully.

_Or_ , he could just burn the remains and keep the ashes all for himself. That way, he'd have his beloved Reek beside him always. Maybe he'd make a pretty ring with those ashes. Weren't there places that did that now? That sounded lovely. A dark metal ring with a pretty pink or red stone mixed with his lover's ashes... The more selfish part of him said this was a better option.

Ah, but if he wanted pretty rings made of his pet, he didn't have to do anything as drastic as killing him! All he really has to do is burn those toes and that finger, yes? There wouldn't be many ashes at all, but that would be okay, they could be blended into the metal or stone or however the jewelry is made, and he'd still have a part of Reek to keep with him always. He thought about the desk in his office and the little keepsake chest he kept on top of it. In that chest, there was the small jar where he kept those dead, blackened digits, and he had to stifle the urge to go burn them right now.

_Patience, Ramsay, you haven't even called a jeweler yet. Just focus on your Reek right now. Priorities._

He opened his eyes then, but his head was still heavy with images of pallid, bruising skin, foggy eyes, and fragile bones stained with dirt and ash. They were lovely thoughts, and every single one of them was far more tempting than they had any right to be. 

Oh, but the Starks would just love that, wouldn't they? They would  _love_ to know Theon was dead just so they could say they were right all along. They would love to know Ramsay had done something 'bad' just so they could gloat and revel in all their self-righteousness. 

Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. He wasn't going to prove them right in any way, shape or form. They were wrong and they would stay wrong, and they were not going to get  _his_ Reek.

_They weren't._  He thought firmly. This was his pet, his relationship, his life. Reek was his, and there was no way the Starks or anyone else were going to take what was rightfully his away from him. They could try, oh yes, but he'd make sure their efforts got them nowhere. He was going to make certain that Reek would stay forever loyal to him and only him, no matter what he was faced with. His baby just needed a little more convincing, that's all. Just a little more reassurance that his master was really the good guy here in all this and that anyone else would be poison. 

He found Reek's hand and pulled it closer so he could interlock their fingers together, and he moved himself up a little more so that the crown of his head was resting against Reek's own. The position was strangely comforting to him, and the contact and warmth of his unconscious lover had the terrible beast within him feeling sated, at least, a just a bit. It was good for him, he knew, and even better for Reek as he understood that such simple, sappy gestures were like candy to the boy and might earn him a few points in his favor. 

Ramsay was right.

When Theon woke up the next morning to find his fingers laced in someone else's and a warmth pressed against the top of his head, he felt himself melting at the sight of Ramsay sleeping soundly against him. Instead of laying regularly and keeping Theon away, his master had actually chosen to be close to him, very nearly cuddling. 

Maybe... maybe this was his way of apologizing for his anger, last night? Or maybe it was his way of continuing to reward Reek for being such a good boy? Or, maybe he just wanted to be closer to his pet? 

Whatever the reason, Theon was elated at the unexpected affection and he wanted to take advantage of it while he could. Shyly, but still managing at least a few scraps of boldness, he crawled over to Ramsay and laid down on his side so that he could gently spoon against the other man's front. When there was no reaction from Ramsay, he reached back behind himself and grabbed his master's wrist to drape an arm around his middle. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, starting to drift off back into sleep.

Behind him, a drowsy Ramsay smirked and felt perfectly pleased with himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Four days had passed since that morning, and now the two of them were sat in the cabin of the truck as Ramsay drove along some snowy mountain road. The road was winding and surrounded either by thick pines or a steep, rocky cliffside, depending on where they were at. It was dark as pitch, save for the truck's lit headlights, and the stars were out in full bloom above them. Every now and again, they'd find a break in the trees, and the fat, full moon would be shining down and lighting the way as they drove. 

It was a beautiful, quiet drive.

Despite this, Theon still clutched tightly to the blanket and pillow in his lap, and he couldn't help the shivers and wincing as he sat in the passenger's side. It really was a nice and peaceful ride, but he couldn’t shake the growing apprehension he felt from not knowing where they were going or why they were even traveling. They hadn't even brought the girls. Had he... had he done something wrong? He wasn't sure, and Ramsay wouldn't say.

Earlier that day, he'd been outside playing with the dogs when Ramsay had come home from work. All his master had said upon exiting the truck was, " _Pack a few things, we're going out._ " Nothing more, nothing less, and he looked neither angry nor in a particularly good mood. Theon had done as he was told, though, and packed a few articles of clothing and some toiletries in a small bag, as well as some winter gear and a spare blanket and pillow. He'd asked if the girls were coming, but Ramsay had locked them in their kennels and said not to worry, Ben would be coming around to tend to them. Ramsay had packed a small bag, too, as well as his skinning knife, a rifle, and a pistol, but none of his other hunting gear. That did unnerve the little ginger quite a bit, but he hadn't said anything about it. After that, they'd left.

The drive had been silent except for a few words here and there, and even the radio was tuned to some alternative station with the volume kept low. 

To Theon, this all would have been perfectly fine if he knew just what the hell was going on. But, Ramsay wouldn't say anything, and he dare not ask lest he anger his master. He couldn't read the other man right now, and though he seemed calm enough, he didn't want to set him off. 

It had... been a strange couple of days since they'd been to Winterfell. Ramsay had only hurt Theon once during those days, and it was after the boy had broken a glass and, during cleanup, had missed a piece that had ended up cutting Ramsay's heel. Other than that, he'd been fairly kind or almost... neutral, even going outside or into the basement to vent his anger. 

Ramsay had also been oddly quiet around the house; hell, most of the time, he had hardly been around at all. The master had been spending a lot of time either at work or at one of the boys' place, and once or twice he'd even gone to see Roose. Theon had been left alone a lot, and he hadn't known what to do with himself during those times. 

They were together now, but the boy couldn't help fretting that maybe Ramsay was actually very mad at him, that the other man had been letting his anger build up these last several days until now, when they were off to some big, scary punishment for Theon.

They'd rounded another curve where they came up to a pull-off against the edge of some cliffside scenic overlook area, and Ramsay drove the truck over to it and stopped. Theon had been so distracted by his increasingly-worrying thoughts that he didn't notice they'd pulled over until a heavy hand settled onto the back of his neck and startled him. He jolted and gave a soft gasp, turning to look at Ramsay a little more frightened than he intended to appear. His master didn't seem angry, though, instead, he looked relaxed and almost affectionate. 

Ramsay must have sensed his wariness. He chuckled and gave a little smile, and his fingers started to thread themselves through the curls on the back of Theon's head before he slowly stroked and ruffled them in a calming manner. "Are you alright, darling?"

Theon fidgeted. The fingers in his hair did feel very nice, but he was having trouble settling down. Chewing his lip, he nodded and murmured, "Yeah. Yeah, 'm fine, sir."

The young Bolton eyed him, quiet for a moment. Then, "You don't have to lie to me. I've seen you quaking like a tiny rabbit this whole time, what's got you scared?"

Theon didn't want to upset his master, but he also didn't want to lie to him – that would only make him angrier. He huffed a little sigh and looked down at the pillow he was squeezing, then finally said, "I dunno what's going on... I know it's not my place to ask, especially if things aren't my- aren't my business, but you've been acting so strangely since Winterfell. And today, we just suddenly up and leave without you saying much, and I don't know where we're going or why, and- um... well, are you mad at me? 'M scared you're mad at me, sir." 

He kept his eyes downcast as he spoke, and he sat tense and waiting for that hand in his hair to tighten and pull at any moment. It never did. He timidly glanced up to see Ramsay's expression hadn't changed, and that surprised him as he'd been expecting coldness or a hard glare.

"Reek. We've talked about this, don't you remember? I already told you I'm not mad at you, that what happened at Winterfell wasn't your fault. You're in no trouble, believe me." Ramsay's voice was soft. It even had a touch of kindness that he hadn't heard in a very long time, so long, in fact, that the ginger was almost convinced this was his first time hearing it. 

Relief finally started to settle into Theon's chest, and he closed his eyes with a shaky exhale. He leaned back some into Ramsay's touch and looked at him again, a small, crooked smile coming to his face. "'M so sorry, I-I feel so stupid..."

 "Don't, I understand. It's been an odd time. A frustrating one with a lot of obstacles. But Reek, you don't have to be scared of me, and certainly not tonight, not when I have such a special treat in store for you..." Ramsay both looked and sounded a little playful at that last part, and Theon couldn't help feeling a little giddy. A 'special treat'? For him? How exciting!

"What is it??"

Ramsay winked. "You'll find out soon. We're nearly there." 

The older man got the truck going again and pulled back onto the road. They drove about another eight miles or so along the mountain pass before Ramsay slowed and pulled off into a thin, dirt path that led into the pines. 

It was dark in there, so much so that the headlights barely felt useful at all, and the cramped tightness of the trees made Theon feel a little claustrophobic. He nearly expected an axe-wielding man in a hockey mask to jump out at them from the tree-line, or a pair of glowing red eyes to blink awake and stare from out of the darkness. 

It was scary, honestly, and very unfamiliar. Theon felt a hint of comfort, though, from the pillow and blanket in his arms, the quiet alt rock Ramsay left playing on the radio for him, and, of course, Ramsay's presence beside him. The truck was warm, it was safe, and even though the outside was nothing but blackness and the-middle-of-nowhere, Ramsay seemed to know where he was going.

After what seemed like forever, the tree-line finally broke away from the road they were on to reveal a small but open glade. When they got towards the end of the drive, Theon saw a cozy, little cabin nestled there with some kind of storage shed a few yards off to its side. The moon and headlights provided enough brightness for him to see that the cabin was compact but sturdy, and it looked well-maintained and warm. It looked very inviting, and the boy couldn't wait to get in there. Well. That is, if it was meant to be theirs. If it belonged to someone else and they were just visiting, then he really didn't want to be there. But, no one else seemed home, so maybe he was lucky and the place was theirs?

"Just a moment." Ramsay got out and strode over to two tall, black metal lanterns that stood at either side of the end of the short, gravel walk way which led up to front of the cabin. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and reached up, opening a lantern case to light the wick inside. Once he had gotten both, he headed up to the cabin to unlock it, then back to the truck where he spoke to Theon. "Grab your things and head inside, darling. Would you start the fire for us, please?" 

Theon nodded and did as he was asked, and, grabbing his things, he headed for the cabin and went inside, clumsily searching for a light switch after he did so. He found it, and the chilly little building was soon lit up, revealing itself to him. His mouth gaped as he took it in, and though it honestly probably wouldn't be much to most people, to him it was absolutely lovely.

It was like something out of a romantic little story, or even a fairytale, with how small and surprisingly comfortable and intimate it was. The entirety of the cabin all looked like it was in one main room, with a smaller one attached to the side that must have been the bathroom. There was a large fireplace in the wall off to his left. It was constructed of stones in multiple colors and shapes, old-fashioned and fitting for the little cabin, and resting above it was a carved wooden mantle that held only a few simple decorations. And, of course, there was a cozy reading chair sat in front of the fireplace, while draped on the floor between the two was what looked like a genuine bear pelt rug that seemed to be as clean and fluffy as the day the animal was killed. Off to his right and against the far wall, there was a tiny kitchen, and though it seemed a bit cramped, it had everything one needed, at least, equipment-wise, all of which was surrounded by lovely wooden cabinets and marble countertops. Next to that was a small space with a table and two chairs that must have been the dining area. The furniture looked simple enough but still seemed much more expensive than anything he could have ever afforded.

He hadn't even seen the bathroom yet, but Theon already found the most impressive feature of the cabin to be the king-sized bed across from him. It was against the far wall and faced the front door, and it was a short distance away from the warmth of the fireplace. It was tall and wide with a beautiful rustic wooden frame, and it was covered in what looked like some of the softest, thickest pillows and blankets he had ever seen. On one side of the bed, there was a nightstand with a lamp on top of it, and on the other was a small shelf stuffed full with books. 

He didn't care about the nightstand or bookshelf at the moment; that big, plush bed had all his attention, and, with a lopsided, happy smile on his face, he dropped his things and ran towards the bed before diving onto it. He bounced a little, then sunk right in, and he couldn't help groaning some at the feeling. The bed was even softer than he had imagined, and the sheets felt and smelled so crisp and clean. This was definitely a step up from his nest of sheets back home, hell, this was a whole flight of stairs up. 

A throat clearing in the doorway caught his attention, and he jolted right up, immediately timid and embarrassed after remembering just who he was with. He got off the bed and quickly smoothed the comforter back out, trying to ignore the heat building in his cheeks. Gods, he probably looked like such a child in front of his master...

"I see you like the bed. That's good." Ramsay chuckled and moved to set his stuff on the floor next to Theon's. "Buuut, I also see you didn't get the fire going like I asked. That's bad."

Ramsay may have had an exaggerated pout on his lips and a playful tone to his voice, but there was a hint of warning in there that Theon didn't miss, and the boy was quick to get right over to the fireplace and begin setting it up. A small flood of stuttering apologies spilled from his lips as he worked, bracing himself for a strike or some angry words. 

Nothing came. Hell, Ramsay wasn't even in the cabin when he turned to look in the other man's direction. Gingerly, he stepped towards the still-open door and peered out at the truck where Ramsay was busy pulling a few bags of groceries from out of the bed. Theon hadn't even realized the guy had gone to the store before he'd come home, but he was glad he did because he certainly hadn't thought to pack anything like that before they had left Dreadfort. It was no surprise, though; his master is and always would be smarter than him. 

In an effort to try and make up for his forgetting the fire, Theon trotted back outside to help with the grocery bags, which his master seemed to appreciate. That gave him some relief.

Soon, after groceries were put away and the items they brought with them were properly placed or stowed, Theon and Ramsay locked the cabin up and settled in. They had eaten a quick dinner of some canned soup, then they'd done the dishes and afterwards had both gotten their showers.

As always, with his master's permission, Theon was in his simple pajamas consisting of a t-shirt and his underwear, and he was curled up on the middle of the bed where he played with the tag of his collar in the firelight. He watched the gold glint a pale yellow and white, even orange, and he admired the way ' _Reek_ ' was lit up in such a pretty, shining way. Behind him, Ramsay lay on his back with his thigh pressed up against Theon's warmth as he read a beat-up, old copy of ' _Kane & Abel_' in the lamplight. 

They were wrapped in a comfortable silence, save for the crackling of the fire, the jingling of the tag, and the occasional turning of pages. There was a muted silence outside, too, as snow gently fell in the darkness. They were plenty warm, though, and Theon really couldn't believe how peaceful and safe he felt. 

At the sound of his master's book closing, Theon sat up and turned out the lamplight, then moved to get them comfortable for bed. As he was heading to stoke the fire, a hand caught his good wrist and halted him. He stopped and turned to see what Ramsay needed. "Yes, m'lord?"

"Please, Reek. Address me as your equal tonight." It bothered him greatly to say such a thing. They were  _not_ equals, they never were, and they never would be, but he was trying to achieve a certain goal, and sometimes it was the little things that mattered most. He did find the look of shock that crossed Theon's features to be amusing, though.

"I... um... O-okay... yes,  _Ramsay_?"  His green eyes darted around a bit in confusion, not sure if his master was playing some sort of trick on him. Was this some kind of test?

Ramsay smiled sweet as saccharine up at Theon, and his thumb gently stroked the smooth, scarred skin of the ginger's inner wrist. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things. I... well, I wanted to make some things clear to you. Please, sit." He patted the spot in front of him, and a curious Theon settled back down into the sheets. He reached out to touch him again, his thumb brushing those errant bangs out of his pet's eyes, and he continued. "Now, I wanted to start off by saying you're very precious to me Reek, and I know I often don't show that to you. I bet you feel very under-appreciated much of the time, don't you? You can be honest."

Theon hesitated, but Ramsay seemed so sincere and open... he nodded slowly, gaze averted from Ramsay's own. He spoke shyly, like a child who was being scolded. "I- yes? Um, yes, yes, I do. But- but I know you're a busy man, and you're-you're very hardworking, and you just get so stressed and tired sometimes, so you can't help the way you treat me. So... I mean, yeah, I feel underappreciated and sad sometimes, but I understand, Rams."

_Ungrateful, just a bit... but understanding. Good boy._  "I'm glad you do, Reek, very glad. I appreciate you more than you realize, and I just want you to know that. You are my beautiful, loyal, sweet, and understanding Reek. You are strong, you are worthy. And you are mine. You make me feel like a god, and I love you, and I never, ever want us to be parted."

Theon blinked and took those words in. They felt so nice to hear, they felt so reassuring and kind. He nuzzled his face against Ramsay's hand, and he whispered, "I don't want us parted, either."

Ramsay looked at Theon for a long, quiet moment before sighing heavily and wearing an expression of slight sadness. "Some people do, I'm afraid."

The ginger frowned. "Oh... the Starks..." 

"Yes. They want to take you away from me because they don't understand us. They don't understand our relationship. They don't understand me. They think I'm bad for you, that I'm a wicked person that hurts you on purpose, as if I actually hated you or something."

Theon sat right up and shook his head. "But you  _don't_ hate me! You  _don't_ do that on purpose, I told them that and I tried to give them reasons, but they just wouldn't listen!"

It pleased Ramsay to hear this. He gently shushed Theon and pulled him back down to the bed. "I know. I know, darling. You're my good boy, my good Reek..." He brushed his thumb over Theon's collar tag, tracing each letter with a calloused pad. 

Theon blush a little and stared meekly down at that big hand near his neck. That collar – that nametag – was an honor, and he felt pride swell within him as Ramsay praised him and his actions. He felt worthy.

"I promise you, things will be alright. We'll see our way through this, and you and I will be together, always and forever. They may not understand us, but we do, and that's what's most important, isn't it? You know I don't mean to hurt you, but sometimes I have to, and I hope you realize that when I do, it hurts me, too. You know that, don't you? Good. I also want you to realize that no one will ever love you or care for you more than I will. They'll never understand you like I will, they'll never make you feel as safe or appreciated. I wish they could, I wish everyone could love you like I do, but unfortunately, that isn't the case. But you're too good for them, and they don't deserve you."

The little ginger's blush deepened and a bashful smile came over his face. He didn't know Ramsay felt so strongly about him, it was really very overwhelming. Gods, if only the Starks and everyone else could see his master like this, if only they could hear his beautiful, sweet words, then maybe they'd understand just how things really are. Maybe then they'd finally accept the two of them as they are and let them be?

"I-I don't know what to say, Rams... I-"

"Shh, shh. You don't have to say anything, pet. I just wanted you to know this. I just wanted you to understand. Do you?"

Theon nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes, I do, sir. I-I mean, Ramsay. I do. And, um, and I want you to know that you're important to me, too. I love you so much, Rams, and I'm glad I didn't listen to them and those... those awful things they were saying. I'm glad I didn't stay there. I know you're good and you care about me, and I hate that they can't see that. You... you do things because it's for my own good, right?"

Ramsay grinned. "That's exactly right, Reek! Aren't you smart. And thank you for telling me all this, pet, I cannot tell you how much it truly means to me that you're so loyal and loving. You're perfect, really."

The boy was eating all this up like candy, clearly flattered and overwhelmed by everything being said to him. He was blushing and falling all over himself like some kind of schoolgirl, practically melting at every word Ramsay said. It was brilliant. The master was more than pleased to see that the admiration and adoration in those eyes hadn't faded one single bit despite all that had happened at Winterfell a few nights ago. 

Ramsay watched the other man for a moment longer before rolling over and moving to get off the bed. He stepped over to the fireplace and stoked the flames a little, then came to the foot of the bed where he began to undress. He noted the way Theon's cheeks seemed to darken with heat, and his eyes seemed to get a little hazy and half-lidded with lust, his pupils dilating some. Those bare thighs seemed to open just a tad, too, as if absently inviting their true owner to them while Theon lay there sprawled. Lovely. 

If Ramsay had his way, he'd be on that bed right now and ripping the few clothes off that pale skin. He'd have his teeth sunken into the meat of one of those bony shoulders, and his cock would be shoving right into that tight heat down below, slicking himself with blood and pre-come. This cabin would ring aloud with his heated growls and his Reek's desperate, pained cries and pleas. Just the thought alone had his blood rushing south to stiffen up his cock, and by the time his jeans came down he was already achingly hard.

But he couldn't do any of that. No, much to his slight annoyance, he was stuck playing nice this evening, but it was all for a worthwhile purpose, so he was willing to put in the effort. Besides, there was nothing wrong with spoiling his pet every  _once_ in a while. The boy really had earned it this time, after all, and he had to admit, that loyalty was pretty damn arousing in and of itself.

"Undress for me, beloved. Please."

Theon did so, his clumsy hands raising his shirt above his head and tugging his underwear down. The collar remained, but otherwise, he was completely bare now, his scarred, bruised body on display for his lover. As always, he was shy about his body being exposed, but it felt different this time, less... intimidating, less objectifying, and he attempted to sprawl a little and leave himself a bit more open and vulnerable. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breath had quickened some, but he was feeling excited. His cock was already getting hard in anticipation, and he bit his lip as he looked Ramsay up and down. 

Ramsay stared right back at Theon, admiring what he saw. He almost never took the time to stop and look at his pet these days, always too quick to get into the sex and then promptly ignore him after. But now, he took more than just a moment to really see the changes in his lover's body, the way his Reek had become so drastically different from the Theon he knew last Christmas Eve when he had first claimed him. The body that had once been soft, strong, and full, with beautiful round thighs, and had once reminded him of a Michelangelo painting, was now delicate, bony, and marred, constantly wracked with shivers. Skin that had once been warm and peach was now frail and pallid, decorated with bruises of varying colors and pink and white scars. 

He looked as weak and needy as a baby bird, as if a single touch would break him apart. Ramsay loved that about him. Ramsay loved everything about him. He loved everything his Reek had become, right down to the visible ribs, the frightened eyes, and the lack of confidence in his posture. Yes, he still looked faintly of Theon Greyjoy, what, with those cheekbones, those green eyes, those red curls... but he may as well have been a ghost of the other man. There was no longer that defiance, that willpower. There was no pride in those shoulders, no unrelenting hope in those hollow, green eyes. That body was no longer powerful and quick, no longer dangerous and free. 

Reek was Ramsay's greatest victory, and he couldn't help the time he took now to admire his creation. He had to revel in the sight of what his pet had become. Reek was broken and ugly and ruined, and he was Ramsay's. 

"Master...?" A tiny, insecure voice spoke up after a while and finally pulled him out of his haze.

He shook his head, an affectionate smile creeping onto his face. "Sorry. I got a little lost back there; you're just too beautiful, Reek."

Theon looked a bit caught off guard by that, and he smiled big and goofy as his eyes started to well with a few tears. The little ginger couldn't believe his master was saying such a thing, that he was making him feel so, so good. It was dizzying, and there were so many emotions hitting him all at once, he didn't know what to think. It was like a damn dream come true, and he nearly pinched himself to see if it was all real. He whimpered, stammering a bit, "R-Ramsay, I- Rams, thank you so much..." 

Ramsay crawled onto the bed and over to Theon until he was hovering over him. He spoke again, lower, gentler, and if Theon had closed his eyes right then he'd almost think it was a stranger talking to him. "I'm just saying what's true, dearest. No need to cry, it's alright." 

Theon closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, and his breath hitched when he felt the other man's lips press against both his cheeks to kiss the tears away. "'M Sorry, Rams..."

"Don't be. I understand. It must feel very strange to you to be treated this way, doesn't it? But you deserve it, I assure you. You're my good boy, Reek. Cry all you like if it eases you, I don't mind." He didn't. In fact, he was glad for the crying, because at least he was getting his usual way in some slight fashion. And, he just really liked the way those tiny little hitches of breath sent pleasant jolts right down to his cock. 

He pressed a few more kisses to those ruddy cheeks, and then he started to make a trail that went down to Theon's jaw, back up to his lips, and then down again to the boy's throat. He began to mark a spot just above Theon's collar, earning himself a quiet sigh for his efforts, and he lowered himself until their torsos were pressed together. He could feel the way Theon's heart pounded in quick little beats, the way his chest heaved slightly with each excited breath. It was like a woman from one of those cheap romance novels was lying beneath him, and the comparison almost made him laugh. 

After leaving a sufficient enough hickey on Theon's neck, Ramsay began to inch his way further down, leaving another trail of kisses in his wake as he moved towards the smaller man's chest where he took one hard, pink nipple into his mouth. Theon gave a tiny moan and pressed up at the contact, and again when Ramsay's tongue flicked and rolled it. 

Theon blinked up at the wooden beams of the ceiling and let a few more tears slip down his cheeks before he closed his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sniffled, then took in a shaky inhale past his crooked smile. He couldn't believe this... they were being intimate with each other and he wasn't in pain, everything was feeling so good for him for once. There were no raking nails, no deep, tearing bites, no bruising strikes or slicing cuts. There wasn't a single knife or restraint in sight. All Theon felt upon his skin were Ramsay's lips, hands, and heat, and it washed him in a wave of nostalgia as he was reminded of distant memories where calloused hands caressed his skin and loving words filled his ears. He thought of a warm Christmas Eve, of a cozy beach house... he thought of the way he was held and kissed after. He'd nearly forgotten those times. He'd nearly forgotten how good sex could feel, how sweet Ramsay could be.

He brought his hands up to his face and covered it with them as he began to cry softly, quiet little sobs leaving him. Theon was so happy...

Ramsay let him cry, smirking just bit at one corner of his mouth as he kissed and licked and nipped his way down, down, down over Theon's hollow belly, and when he got to the junction of the boy's groin and thigh, he started to mark a spot there. The action had Theon moaning in-between his sobs and had him writhe and quiver slightly. His cock gave a bounce against his stomach and left a sticky little mark of pre-come, and the master couldn't ignore it any longer. He tilted his head and lapped up the mark, feeling the hint of a shiver that ran under his tongue, and when he took the wet tip into his mouth, he groaned at the weak yelp and buck he got in response. Hollowing his cheeks, he took a little more of Theon's length into his mouth and began to suckle, tongue lazily working in swirls and slithers wherever it could reach. 

Theon's trembling hands slid away from his face and buried themselves into the sheets as he looked down at his lover with puffy, red eyes. He sniffled and huffed, a little moan erupting from his throat as he clumsily rolled his hips up at Ramsay's mouth. "Rams..." He sighed, biting his lip and clutching a little harder at the sheets. 

With a soft 'pop', Ramsay lifted his head and pulled away from Theon's erection. He chuckled and grinned at the needy mewl he received, and if it were any other time, he would have left a hand-shaped bruise on one or both of those hips for their greedy, insistent thrusts at him. Instead, he shuffled back just a bit more and set his hands upon Theon's thighs, spreading them nice and wide before pulling them up against the boy's torso. His blue eyes seemed to dance in the firelight at the sight he was gifted with.

Theon, though, was not quite as excited by it. His needy, greedy mewl became a grunt of discomfort, and he fidgeted sheepishly against the bed. He always felt so awkward whenever Ramsay exposed him like this, he always felt so vulnerable, and those feelings were usually used to humiliate or punish him in some way. 

That wasn't going to be the case for tonight. Ramsay had other plans in mind, and none of them involved humiliation or punishment. He didn't mock Theon as he had him exposed like this, didn't call him a slut or a whore like he normally would, didn't roughly shove something deep inside him like he really, really wanted to. This was all for Theon's benefit, and he kept Theon held like that as he ducked his head down and gave a slow, delicate lick all along the boy's hole. 

Theon gasped and arched a little off the bed, toes curling in the air as that tongue slid over his sensitive ring of muscle. He wasn't expecting that... but it was a very pleasant surprise, and it had him moaning and giving a little whimper for more.

Ramsay was happy to oblige, eyes closing and big hands stroking those scarred thighs as he began to work. The tip of his tongue drew slow, teasing circles and zigzags at first, and when Theon began to get warmed up, that slow teasing became clever flickering. He wrapped his lips around that quivery little ring and gave careful, delicate nips and grazes with his teeth, tongue prodding and prying. 

After a minute or two, he opened his eyes some and saw that those skinny thighs were clamped together and shaking as Theon squirmed a little, and he could hear how his pet mewled soft and pretty for him. Well, he must be doing something right, hm?

He pressed his lips back to Theon's skin, and his low, deep groan sent slight vibrations into the other boy. Then, he prodded a little more with his tongue, and finally it pushed itself in as far as it could go and began wriggling and rolling around. Theon's soft, pitched cry was music to his ears, and he thrust the muscle in and out, slow at first, then quickly.

"O-oh, Ramsay!" Theon's bony fingers slipped in-between his own thighs and buried their way into Ramsay's thick, black hair. They didn't pull, the grip was too weak, but it gave Theon some purchase as his man made him dizzy with his tongue. "Master, I love you!"

Ramsay didn't respond. He kept working the smaller man's hole for another long minute or two before pulling away and sitting up. He took a moment to watch Theon as his pet, fidgeted and pulled at the sheets, his legs shaking and toes curling while his chest gave gentle heaves. The rest of his body glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and those red curls were a careless mess atop his head. Through his disorderly bangs, Theon looked up at him with glossy green eyes rimmed in red, the latter color matching the one in his cheeks. His Reek looked properly debauched, and they had hardly even done anything yet.

"My, aren't you quite the sight," Ramsay purred. He crawled over Theon to reach into the nightstand, and he dug a small bottle of lube out before sitting back in a cross-legged position. He patted his lap. "Come here, sweetness, we're nearly to the best part."

Theon was giddy for more, and he didn't hesitate to crawl into his master's lap. He sat carefully, minding the thick erection rubbing up against him, and wrapped his legs around the bigger man's waist, thin arms moving to slip around those broad shoulders. "Like- like this, sir? Like this, Rams?"

Ramsay nodded. "Perfect."

Theon heard the bottle being uncapped behind him, then the sounds of Ramsay slicking up his fingers. After a moment, a strong arm was wrapped around his middle and lifting him up some, giving his master better access to his already slightly-slick hole. The tip of one thick finger teased at his sensitive skin, and he hummed at the feeling, ducking his head to rest it under Ramsay's chin before closing his eyes. He grunted softly at the intrusion when it finally went in, and the arm around him held him tighter. Once it was in, that finger started to thrust slowly and gently, taking its time as it prodded and wriggled around. It was nice, and so different from the usual aggressive, rushed preparation he often received. When he was ready, Theon gently bounced back against Ramsay's finger, and it wasn't long before he was asking for a second digit which his man was all-too-happy to give. He rode that one, too, even though Ramsay was really doing most of the work, and he huffed hot little breaths against the bigger man's chest with every up-and-down. By the time the third finger had buried itself into his ass, he was pulling away to sit up straight in Ramsay's lap, his fingers finding their way to all that black hair again. He moved with clumsy rolls of his hips, and he moaned in quick, pitched little mewls. 

"A-ah! Rams!" He squeaked, collar tag jingling with each bounce. 

Ramsay looked back at him, blue eyes half-lidded but intense in their stare as he caught every expression flickering across Theon's face. "Feels good, doesn't it, darling," he rasped, more a statement than a question. 

It did, and when Ramsay's fingers struck gold against his prostate, he jolted up and quivered hard. It was rare that he had his prostate pleasured, and when he did it was usually an unintended action. Or, if it  _was_ fully-intended, it was prodded and teased so much that it hurt. He didn't like when Ramsay tried the forced orgasm thing on him... but that wasn't happening now, no, he was genuinely being pleasured, and in a good way, one that had him melting in the Bolton's lap. Those thick fingers thrust deeper into him and spread him more, drumming up against his spot here and there, and he felt a familiar heat pooling in his lower belly. 

"Rams," He whimpered. "Rams, 'm close-!"

"Oho, is that so, Reek?"

"Yes!"

Ramsay suddenly stopped his fingers and pulled them free, much to poor Theon's dismay. The master couldn't help chuckling as he felt Theon's ass try to follow his hand. Such a greedy baby... lucky for Reek it was a reward night, or else such behavior would have earned him no less than a slap. Ah, but he was sure that if it were any other evening, his Reek wouldn't dare to show such bold behavior as he had been. 

"Ah, ah, ah," he gently chided, picking Theon up as if he weighed nothing before setting him back down to the sheets. "Patience, sweetheart, I'll get you there. Don't you want to wait for me, too?"

Theon looked a little guilty, and some of the lust vanished from his face as embarrassment took over. He looked down at his twiddling fingers and nodded, murmuring, "O-of course, m'lord, 'm sorry... I didn't- I didn't mean to be so eager."

"That's alright. You're still a good boy." 

Ramsay grabbed the lube again and hastily slickened up his cock, and when he was done, he tossed the bottle aside. He then dipped forward to press a kiss to his pet's pouty lips before he rolled Theon onto his side, flopping down and coming up behind him to press against his lean back. Slipping an arm under and around the ginger, he pulled him into an embrace while his other hand grabbed one skinny thigh and raised it. "How's this position? Will this be okay?" It grated on his nerves to have to ask permission.

Theon melted into the embrace, absolutely delighted by this position Ramsay had chosen for them. It was so much more intimate and romantic than anything they'd ever done since... well, he couldn't remember, and he wanted to revel in the feeling of it for as long as he could. He turned his head to face Ramsay, giving a little nod and one of his shy, gap-toothed smiles. "Yeah. Yes, please, please, thank you."

Ramsay responded by setting the tip of his cock up against Theon's entrance and pushing in, slow and steady, inch-by-inch, until the entirety of his length was buried to the hilt. A slight pink filled his cheeks, and he gave a low, long hiss through gritted teeth as he thrusted in, his eyes never leaving his lover's face. 

Theon lay there in Ramsay's arms, chest arching up and mouth gaping slightly with a shaky, pitched moan as he was steadily filled until he was completely full. It was strange to be so full without any pain, without anything more than a bit of awkward discomfort, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn't about to be pounded hard or made to feel like he was being ripped in half. He couldn't believe he was about to be made love to, and the poor boy had to will himself not to cry again. 

"So tight, Reek... You're always so tight for me, aren't you..." Ramsay purred, blue eyes seeming to shine in the dim light. 

When he was able to remember how speech functioned, Theon answered, voice cracking a little, "Yes... yes, always for you, sir, always tight..."

Ramsay groaned and buried his face against Theon's neck, the scent of the boy's sweat and sex and the leather of his collar doing wonders for his arousal. When he was certain Theon was adjusted enough, he thrusted again and started a slow, lazy pace that had the both of them sighing. 

Theon set both his hands on the one Ramsay had held against his middle, and he nestled his head onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He wanted to feel everything, focus on it all so that he'd never forget it like he did everything else. He wanted to feel those warm breaths against the side of his neck, hear the muffled jingling of his collar tag as his body was rocked, feel the way Ramsay's hands held him tightly but gently, hear how his lover groaned out his name... he didn't want to forget any of this. He loved his master to pieces, but even he couldn't deny that times like this might be few and far between with the troubled man, so he wanted to absorb as much of it as he could.

"Ramsay," He moaned, quiet and breathy. "Ramsay, I love you."

"I know," Ramsay said, and he kissed the back of Theon's head. "I love you, too, Reek. My Reek..."

"' _Your Reek_ '." Theon started to roll his own hips, smoother than the other times he had now that he had Ramsay's guidance, and he even tried to tighten himself a few times just to thank his master a little more, something Ramsay greatly appreciated.

They kept that pace up for a while, and when Theon had whimpered for Ramsay to go a little faster, Ramsay obliged, picking up the speed some and deepening his thrusts while he was at it. Another few minutes had passed before he started to grow bored, and so he buried his cock further into Theon and tried to angle his hips a little differently. It worked, as a second later had Theon giving a little gasp and a jolting buck. Ramsay felt a shiver run through the thigh he held, and he hummed, doing another deep roll at that same angle to get that reaction again. 

He pressed a kiss to Theon's ear and cooed, "Oh? What is it, darling? Right there? Ah- is that what you want?"

Theon mewled, and his fingers squeezed at Ramsay's hand. "Yes! Right-right there, please!"

"Mmh, of course, my lovely, anything for you." Ramsay thrusted into that spot, nudging his cock against his lover's prostate. He felt the quivers and shivers running along Theon's skin, and he felt the way those little breaths made Theon's chest heave and hitch. Those soft sounds of the boy's panting and moaning were divine, but not as much as the feeling of that tight little ass going even tighter all around his dick with each good thrust. 

Theon was seeing stars with these thrusts, and his breathy little moans and soft cries grew a bit louder with each one. "Please, don't stop, master! Gods... please, please – hahh – p-please!"

Ramsay's own sounds were gaining in volume, too, and he was getting a little light-headed the closer he grew to his orgasm. He shuddered and hugged Theon a bit more tightly to himself, and he grunted a few raspy groans into the smaller man's ear. He huffed, "Are you close, love?"

"Yes! Gods, so close!" He was. He'd been close ever since they started, but he'd been a good boy and had forced himself to hold off as best he could until it was the right time, until there was a chance he could come with his master. It'd been hard, though; Ramsay had him so full, and he was just so dizzyingly good. He turned to face Ramsay, a look of heated need in his eyes as he asked, "Can you- ohh! C-can we come together, Ramsay? Please?" They probably wouldn't, but it just sounded so romantic to Theon and he couldn't resist asking.

Ramsay said nothing as he pulled Theon in for a passionate kiss, and he picked up the pace just enough to get the both of them there a little faster, thrusting into his boy good and deep and making sure to hit just the right spot as best as he was able. He had one hand holding tighter onto Theon, though he had to resist the strong urge to do it in a bruising manner, and the other slipped itself around to grip at his lover's cock and stroke it for him. 

Theon came first, his skinny little body going taut and his toes curling so much the joints went white. He gave a stuttering sob as his climax hit him, and his hips jerked clumsily while he spilled onto the sheets, his belly, and Ramsay's fist. It took a little longer for Ramsay to get there, but the built-up lust, the damn good friction, and the way Theon's ass tightened during his end had Ramsay hitting his own orgasm. With one more thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came deeply inside Theon. He gave a few more thrusts for good measure after that, and he didn't pull away until he felt like every drop of seed was spent.

Theon collapsed against Ramsay's chest, panting softly and moaning, shuddering and shaking in the bigger man's arms. He closed his eyes again and reveled in the warm feeling of his master's come inside him. It felt so good to have it there without the additional feeling of aching or burning... 

This whole evening had been without aching or burning, actually, and he found himself in a slight daze because of it. Had they really spent a romantic, peaceful evening together in some beautiful little cabin where they made soft, sweet love? Had Ramsay really told him all those beautiful things and made him feel so special and important? Was he really lying here in a bed and not at the foot of it or on the floor, and was he really considered his master's equal tonight? Was he really lying here without pain and fear, and instead reveling in a post-sex haze and sleepy contentedness?

It was all so hard to believe... but it was very real. This night had actually happened, and the little Greyjoy couldn't help the huge, dorky smile on his face that he tried to hide behind his hands.

Ramsay peered over Theon's shoulder and snorted. "And just what do you look so happy about, hm?"

Theon blushed and bit his lip. He gave a small shrug. "Well... 'cuz 'm really  _happy_ , Rams."

"Good." Ramsay smirked.  _You should be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if some of this was clumsy or rushed.  
> Thanks for reading. <3


	20. Breaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise! A chapter where Rams and Theon are only mentioned!   
> Yes, this is a chapter featuring Jon and Ygritte as the main characters for it, but don't worry, we'll be back to our regularly-scheduled program in Chapter 21.
> 
> Enjoy!

Jon and Ygritte had just finished the movie part of their date night, so they'd decided they would wrap up the rest of the evening with a nice little drive around the outside of Northtown.

They'd been chattering about the movie they'd just watched as they drove, and Ygritte was in mid-rant about one particularly inaccurate fight scene when she stopped mid-sentence and gave Jon's arm a shove before pointing at something out the window. "Wait, wait, stop, go back-!!" She cried.

"Wh- ?! What, what is it?? What, Ygritte??" Jon stopped the car hard, heart pounding in his chest as his brown eyes darted every which way. "Did I almost hit a deer again??"

She turned back to him excitedly, mischief all over her face and in her tone. "That was Dreadfort Road!"

Jon went quiet and looked at her. "...Are you serious. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you ass!"

"Quick, put it in reverse!"

"What?? Why??"

Ygritte rolled her eyes. "Duh, so we can go see it! Ooh, do you think it'll be scary and haunted? Like that one pathway that led to the castle in  _Beauty and the Beast_?"

"It's where the Boltons live,  _of course_  it's 'scary and haunted'. And no, we're not going there. Besides, if Ramsay sees us, he'll get pissed and take it out on Theon..."

"Ah, but see, that's the neat thing; he  **won't** see us!" She grinned, practically steepling her fingers like some sort of movie villain.

"Oh, aye? And just why is that, did he suddenly go blind without me knowing? Because that would be wonderful. Not... y'know, not that I wish ill on anyone, necessarily, but, well..."

Ygritte snorted. "Pfsh! I wish! No, dummy, he won't see us because he won't  _be_  there! He's supposed to be gone for like, a week or so, I dunno, who cares, but yeah, the prick's hiding away at some cabin!"

Jon raised a brow. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Remember how Brienne and I went to the Smoking Log two nights ago? Well, while we were up at the bar, we overheard some guy talking about how Ramsay and... ugh, and his  _'bitch'_ , as he called him, were gone up at some cabin for the week, and that he was stuck checking in on the creep's dogs for him."

Jon grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do we really have to go down there? It's eerie enough as it is in the daytime!"

"Yes! C'mon, don't you wanna see where our Theon lives? Or the place where Roose Bolton takes his innocent victims and drinks their blood to satiate his vampire urges?"

He couldn't help smiling at that, and finally he relented. "Alright. But  _no leaving the car_! We're not going to bother anyone, we're just going to have a look."

"Whatever, copper, just get driving, already!"

Jon put the car in reverse until they were in front of Dreadfort Road. He gave an uneasy look up at that sign, as if it was a warning in and of itself, but he turned right anyway and started to head through the black wall of pines.

As they drove, they joked back and forth at how creepy the road was, about how they expected ghosts or monsters or even Ramsay himself to just start walking out from behind the trees, but for the most part they were quiet. They were unsettled by how close the trees felt, how damned black and thick they were, and how deathly silent it was. They were sure that even without the layer of snow muting everything, the road would still be like a grave. It was fitting that the Boltons would hide themselves away out here in this suffocating, pitch-black middle-of-nowhere.

They didn't say it, but both were thinking the same thing; how had Theon survived out here for so long?

A number of miles has passed, and Ygritte was beginning to think they'd never actually get to Ramsay's property, but then Jon finally slowed the car as the trees opened up to another field, this time one that revealed Dreadfort Lane and the home at the end of it. 

"There it is," He said, gesturing towards the house with a nod. "Gods, look at it all the way out there... if it weren't for that light in the driveway, you wouldn't be able to see it. See, I told you it was scary."

Ygritte leaned over him some and squinted. "Let's get a closer look."

"What? No, I'm not going up there. What if the car gets stuck and we have to call somebody to get us out? Then what would we tell Ramsay, huh? 'Oh, sorry, just out on a nice drive, tried to see if you were home for drinks, got stuck when we went to leave, whoops!'"

"Are you done with the dramatics, Jon?"

"No."

"Come on! We don't have to park by it- look, we don't even have to leave the road, just back up a little more by those trees we passed, and then we can just walk to it! Our tracks will be covered with snow by the morning, no one will be any wiser!"

Jon flopped back against the driver's seat and grunted. "Did you not hear what I said earlier? I said 'no leaving the car'!"

"Maybe, but I didn't hear it. What I  _did_ hear was you saying 'we're not going to bother anyone, we're just going to have a look'." She grinned, that mischievous look coming back to her face.

He looked at her and felt himself melting a little bit at her smile. Godsdammit, he did say that, too, and even if he hadn't he'd still have trouble denying her anything. Once again, he found himself relenting, and he unbuckled his seatbelt and shut off the car. "Alright, fine, but seriously, Ygritte, let's be careful, okay?"

She gave a giddy little laugh and a clap of her hands, then dove in to peck him on the cheek. "Thank you. C'mon, this'll be fun! We can pretend we're P.I.'s or something!"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, then got out of the car and followed after her. They kept to the road, listening closely for cars, but there was none. Not a soul in sight, nor any kind of sound except their breathing and the crunching of snow beneath their shoes. As they walked a little further down Dreadfort Lane, though, Ramsay's girls began to bark and growl from behind the house, rattling at their kennel cages as they heard someone approaching.

"Those must be the babysat dogs then, hm?" Ygritte said.

Jon nodded. "Yeah. They did that same thing when I came here last time, but they were inside the house. I dunno what they look like, but they sound big and mean, so we'd better be careful."

"I knew we should have brought Ghost."

"Oh please, don't go trying to get my wolf involved in our shenanigans, too, he's innocent."

She snickered. Jon was right, though, if those dogs got out they'd probably be screwed. Knowing that asshole Ramsay, he'd probably trained those dogs to be vicious to strangers, and since the two of them were off-duty, they didn't have their service weapons or any kind of gear on them. She reached for his hand and held it, glad when he squeezed back rather than mocking her for her sudden nerves. 

"Jeez, wouldja look at that place... it's huge!" She whispered in slight awe as they drew nearer to the house. They could see it better now, and Jon had nearly forgotten how big and menacing the damn thing was. If anyone else had lived here, the home would probably look like something out of one of those wealthy real estate magazines, so lovely and inviting and rustic. A dream home, really. Instead, it was just intimidating and ominous, closer to a fortress than a home. 

"How does Theon sleep here every night?" Ygritte murmured as she stepped up onto the porch and walked to one of the living room windows.

"He doesn't really have a choice." 

"Oh. Right." She cupped her hands against the glass and tried to peer inside through a crack in the curtains. She grunted in annoyance. "I can't see anything."

"Well, of course not, the curtains are drawn and the lights are off. You won't see anything unless you go in." He regretted the words immediately as he said them, and he met her playful stare with a quick shake of his head. "... **No**. Don't even think about it."

"Ohhh, too late, Jon! You already planted the seed in my head and now it won't go away!" She brushed passed him and trotted to the front door. She fished a small kit out of her coat pocket and kneeled down, getting eye-level with the lock as she began to pick it.

"Ygritte-!!" Jon hissed, head whipping around to look back at the road. "Ygritte, stop, this is too much!"

She rolled her eyes and nudged him away. "Oh Jon, where's your sense of adventure? I didn't see any security cameras anywhere, and besides, we'll just be in and out in a few minutes, no biggie. No one will ever know we were here."

That didn't put Jon to ease at all, and he stood there fretting and looking all around, but he didn't stop her. Finally, the lock clicked and she huffed a small, victorious laugh. "Gotcha, ya bastard."

"Ygritte, we really shouldn't do this..."

She stood and turned to him, putting her kit away before taking the man's hands in her own. The smile had gone away from her face and she looked a little more serious. "Jon, part of this is because I'm curious and nosy. The other – and bigger – part is that I really want to help Theon, and maybe if we find some proof..."

His expression softened and he gave her hands a squeeze. "Yeah, but we're trespassing. We don't have a warrant, and anything we find won't be admissible in court no matter how good it is."

Damn him, he was right. "Well, couldn't we at least just take a look? Find something to fire us up, get us talking with Tormund and Brienne, and maybe then we could come back later when he's home. We could come back with that pesky warrant and proper legal allowance, hm?"

 The smile came back to her face and Jon couldn't help but reciprocate. "Okay. Okay, fine, but let's be really, really quick about this, alright? If we get caught, we'll-"

"I know, I know. We'll be in deep shit. Then we'll get fired and disgraced, and then we'll run away together and become real P.I.'s in Braavos or Dorne or something and have ten wild brat babies to carry on our sullied names."

He snorted. "Don't make it sound so tempting." 

Jon stomped the snow off his shoes, then followed his smiling red-head into the house and closed the heavy wooden door behind them. He locked it, then turned and took the place in. It was hard to see much without any light, but what he could see was plenty of space, a beautiful and very clean interior, and... not much evidence that Theon lived here. 

When he stepped into the large living room, he saw that Theon's gaming consoles were up on the same shelf that held the tv, but they were covered in a layer of dust and hadn't looked used or moved in a while. He frowned. Was Theon allowed to have any fun here at all? He turned and walked around, eyes wandering over everything he passed. The walls and shelves weren't bare, but there were no pictures anywhere. None of the dogs, none of Ramsay or Roose, none of Theon, not even a single picture of the two boys together in one of those sappy couples' pics. The portraits on the wall were either paintings or old photos, all of which were of scenic settings or the occasional animal subject, but nothing more than that.

The place certainly felt even less home-y than it had just a few minutes ago. He headed out of the living room and glanced around. He called out, "Ygritte?"

"I'm up here."

He followed her muffled voice up the stairs and found himself on the second level of the house. After looking into a guest bedroom and a bathroom, he found her at the end of the hall, inside an office. There were no pictures here, either, but lots of books lining the shelves on the walls and a heavy wooden desk right at the center. It was topped with a stack of papers, a lamp, and a closed laptop, one he wasn't sure he wanted to go looking through. Ygritte stood beside it with something in her hands, and he came over to see.

"What's that?" Upon closer inspection, he saw it was a pretty little wooden box. It looked old but strong, and it was clamped tightly-shut with a metal lock that looked like it needed a key.

"I dunno, some kinda dumb little treasure chest or something? I can hear something rattling around in there, but I can't get it open."

"Well, don't break it!" He took it from her and looked it over. Yes, it would need a key, and he was sure they wouldn't be able to find it with the limited time they had here. He frowned at the box, then handed it back to Ygritte. "Put it back how you found it, please."

"Ugh, yes, 'boss'." She set it back down on the desk, replicating the way she'd found it, then moved around to the other side to start pulling drawers open. Much to her annoyance, those were locked, too. "Of course..."

"'M not surprised." He headed out of the office and down the hall, the red-head close on his heels. 

They walked to the opposite end, and there they found what was surely Ramsay Bolton's room. It was spacious, and the walls were painted black, making the room even darker upon entering. Jon flicked the light on and saw a tall king-sized bed across the way. It was held together with a strong metal frame that looked like it was constructed out of pieces of old medieval torture devices, and the sheets it wore were black and pink. 

The rest of the furniture was similar; dark wood and old metal. The decorations, if they could be called that, were various knives on display, including a crossed set of daggers hanging up above the bed. There were other decorative trophies in the form of animal bones – mostly skulls or antler pieces -, and pelts either hanging up on the walls or draped over furniture. On the floor, there rested some kind of massive animal-skin rug, probably some bear that Ramsay himself had hunted.

There were a few books stacked on the shelves and dressers, too, many of them appearing to be about history, torture, and skinning techniques, and some were about serial killers or crime mysteries. Jon didn't care to read the rest of the titles.

Once again, the room was lacking in any photographs. At least, photographs that could be displayed for other people to see. Who knew what kind of polaroids the Bolton son had stashed away?

Overall, the room cold and dark, and it smelled faintly of iron. It looked like it had crawled out of the Middle Ages, and it didn't seem even remotely inviting to anyone but its owner. It was very much Ramsay. 

"Hells," Ygritte spat. "All it needs is a Slayer poster, some upside-down crosses, and a fridge to keep the severed heads in, and you'd have an edgy, teenage killer boy's wet dream in here."

Jon made a face. "The room is bad enough as it is, don't make it worse."

Ygritte stepped into the room and glanced around. As she came near the bed, she stumbled a little over a messy bundle of old, worn-out comforters that were left at the foot of it. She was about to ignore it and continue on when something caught her eye. Crouching down beside the blankets, she got a closer look at whatever it was that had gotten her attention, and when she saw what it was she looked up at Jon, frowning. "Jon, I think this is blood. I think it's Theon's."

"What?" He came over, too, and he saw she was right. The blankets were spotted and stained with old blood, sweat, and what looked like cum. The bundle smelled like a dog's bed, and it looked filthy and completely inappropriate for someone to be using it, but there were a few strands of red hair here and there. He plucked one up off the sheets and examined it more closely in the light. "Fuck me, you're probably right."

Ygritte scowled. "Oho, so Mr. Bolton gets to sleep in a big, fat, cozy bed while Theon has to sleep in dirty, old blankets that aren't suited for a dog? Fucking- I can't believe this guy. I can't believe Theon stands up for him like he does."

Jon rubbed his face and sighed. "I know, me neither. But he doesn't know any better, not with the way Ramsay's got him controlled." He stood, and as he did his eyes caught sight of a reddish-brown tainting some of the metal framing at the head of the bed. Thinking it was a trick of his eyes, he strode over for a closer look and confirmed the sick feeling in his guts. It looked like there was blood on the wall, too, with some flecks and smudges appearing older, while others appeared more recent, but it was hard to see it with the black paint and poor lighting. Well... all the more evidence for the investigators, right? Giving his own scowl, he headed out of the room and flicked the light switch off. "Let's go look around some more."

The two of them split up, Ygritte heading back downstairs while Jon ascended further up. He found the door to the attic when he did, and giving the knob a twist, he discovered it was unlocked. When he opened the door and put the light on, he saw the whole thing was one big attic room with a smaller bathroom attached, but not just that- it was Theon's. It had to be.

The walls were peppered with silly doodles and amateur graffiti art Theon had done, and scattered in-between all these were pictures of Theon's family, friends, dogs, and the Sunset coast. He'd tacked up other random things, too, things that were just very much Theon, like torn-out magazine pages with cool cars, pretty women and handsome men, soccer stuff, post cards and advertisements for various exotic places... 

It made Jon smile. It was just like the boy' old room back in Winterfell. He stepped further into the attic to get a better look around. 

The bed was small and clumsily-made with its grey and gold sheets and an abundance of pillows, but it looked like it hadn't been used in a while. Beside it, there was a simple nightstand with a little shelf loaded in notebooks underneath a single drawer, and on top of it was a cheap lamp and a framed photo. When Jon stepped around the bed and over to the nightstand, he got a closer look at the frame and saw that it held a picture of Theon and Ramsay. 

The photo must have been nearly a year old or so; the two of them were cuddled up against each other in what looked like one of Northtown's parks, and both were smiling, Theon more-so than Ramsay. Ramsay looked nearly the same in the picture as he did when Jon had seen him at Winterfell, the only difference being a haircut and a clean-shaven face. Theon, though... It was like he was looking at a completely different person here. The Theon in this picture was smiling big and looking genuinely happy, and there were no marks or bruises anywhere to be seen on him. His hair was a vibrant red, his eyes were a brilliant green, and his face was filled-out and as handsome as ever. He didn't look haunted or scared. He looked like the real Theon. 

Jon swallowed. He set the picture back down and turned away from it, moving now to the boy's dresser. It looked like it had been used at least fairly recently, the dust appearing disturbed in spots, so he supposed Theon was allowed to wear his own clothes for the most part. Decorating the dresser were various figurines Theon had collected over the years, some of them being ones Jon remembered having played with during his childhood. There were a few more framed pictures, too, and a drawing that Rickon had scribbled for Theon last year. Scattered around these were some sea shells, a bottle of sand, a bottle of cloudy sea water, and a few old coins, all from the beaches of the Iron Islands. 

Sitting behind all this with its eight arms draped haphazardly over everything was the large, stuffed kraken plush that Theon had gotten over thirteen years ago for his ninth birthday when the Starks had taken him to visit Yara over in the Iron Islands. It was well-loved. The short fur had matted and pilled, and the color had faded. The plastic eyes were scratched and re-painted over, and the legs had been stitched up and sewn back onto the body more times than could be counted. 

Jon smiled affectionately at the old squid, and he reached out to brush his fingers against its face. His heart ached... He felt like he was in a dead man's room, like some preserved memorial to Theon Greyjoy or something, and the thought of that suddenly overwhelmed him more than he was prepared for. He rushed out of the room.

His heart pounded some in his chest and he breathed a little harder, his throat feeling thick and his eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. He was beginning to regret coming here when a cry from downstairs caught his attention.

"Ygritte?!" He called out, hurrying down the steps.

"Jon!! Jon, come here,  _now_!!" She was muffled, but he could hear from her voice that something was not quite right. He followed the sound through the kitchen and down into the basement where he found her standing beside some huge, heavy, metal door. She looked scared.

"What?" He closed the distance between them and looked her over, but she didn't look hurt. "Ygritte, what is it, what's wrong?"

"Come with me, you have to see this," She said, then she took him by the hand and led him down the hallway behind that metal door. 

As soon as he was passed the threshold, he was hit with an awful smell, one that made him feel nauseous. It was a strange, cloying smell, like a mix of puke and waste and sweat, with a coppery tang of blood and the sickly sweet of death. He coughed and groaned, his free hand flying up to cover his mouth and nose. Muffled, he asked, "Gods, what is that?" 

Ygritte didn't answer, and she didn't need to. He entered the lit bunker room and saw a cramped, windowless shelter with three separate, smaller rooms attached. He saw the cement floors and walls, and that their grey surfaces were stained with ugly colors, mostly of the same reddish-brown sort he saw upstairs. Then, there were the drains, rusted and stained and covered in hard grime, as well as the surprisingly-clean tool table pushed off to the side, and hanging from the ceiling and attached to one wall were thick, heavy chains and locks. Worst of all was the saltire. There it stood in all its terrible glory, old and worn and looking more than well-used. 

It was clear that Ramsay had hosed the place down a number of times, or at least had tried to, and had some-what rinsed the cement, but he couldn't get rid of everything. The room carried that pungent smell, and the drains themselves reeked of decay and iron. The saltire itself even appeared to have bits of flesh and hair and blood embedded into the grains of the wood. The leather straps were stained, too, and some of the chain links had remnants of dry, flaking blood caught in them. The tools, if Jon and Ygritte chose to look inside the medical table, were impeccably clean, though, and smelled strongly of sterilizing chemicals. 

They were certain they'd just discovered Ramsay Bolton's little in-home torture chamber, and Jon felt like he was going to be sick. 

"Oh, gods..." He stumbled towards the nearest wall and gagged, eyes shutting tightly to try and close out what he'd just seen. This... this place... was this where he took Theon? Was all this, the stains, the smells, everything, was that all Theon's? Or were there others? There had to be others, Theon couldn't be the only one, there was no way. Gods, he couldn't believe his brother had been put through anything like this, and not only that, but that he had survived it, too.

 He didn't know – he didn't  _want_  to know – just what had gone on down here and what had been done to Theon, but he was damn sure it was all things that shouldn't ever happen again, that shouldn't have ever have happened in the first place. Whatever happened in here had changed his Theon into the timid, submissive man he met at Winterfell.

Ygritte swallowed her disgust and stepped closer to the room's massive wooden cross. It caught her attention more than anything else in there had. It was ugly, menacing, and it just felt... off. She couldn't place it, but something felt particularly evil about it in a place that housed a very evil man. She could smell it more the closer she got to it, the rotten copper practically touching her tongue with how strong it was. She choked back the urge to vomit and dared to step even closer, so much so that she was able to see the evidence trapped in the wood. She eyed the wooden monstrosity up and down, and as her eyes moved towards the center of the cross, she felt her heart sink. 

Embedded in the grains were a few strands of red hair, and as far as she could tell, they were the same as the ones found upstairs on those blankets. She looked back at Jon still huddled up near the wall, then at the hairs again, and when her eyes glanced once more over at the stains of blood and bits of skin, she knew neither of them shouldn't be in this room any longer. 

Ygritte turned away from the hideous saltire and went back over to Jon. She slipped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into the hall, shutting off the lights behind them as she led them back into the basement. Once they were out of the bunker, she moved to face Jon and look him in the eyes. The both of them looked rattled, a little pale, too, but she tried to force a smile despite the grimness they'd just walked out of. She brushed her fingers through his messy black hair to tuck it out of his face as she said, "Hey. Let's get outta here, huh? Let's go to my place, and we can try and come up with a plan. What do you think?"

He leaned into her touch and sighed. "I think that sounds like a great idea."

They stood there for a moment longer before Ygritte furrowed her brows and asked, "Is it just me, or did those dogs go really quiet?"

Jon frowned. He lifted his head a bit and listened, and, now that she'd mentioned it, he couldn't hear them anymore, either. "Yeah. They'd been barking so much this whole time I just kinda tuned 'em out, but now I can't hear anything."

Ygritte's eyes widened just a little, and Jon's did, too. "We should go." 

He nodded, and the two of them hurried up the stairs.

Just as they were about to make it out of the basement, the front door opened. Ygritte nearly gasped, and Jon immediately moved to block her, grabbing the basement door and pulling it closed slightly as he nudged them back down the stairs a bit. 

Peering through the crack, they saw a tall, broad man enter, followed by three massive cane corso dogs. Ygritte recognized him as the man from the bar, the one who'd said all that stuff about Ramsay going away. He was babysitting the dogs, but why the hell was he here so damn late?

Ben and the girls were barely in the house for more than a few seconds before all three of the dogs started to growl low in their throats and sniff around like crazy. 

Ben squinted. 

He'd seen that car out on the road, seen how it was just barely snowed on and how there was no one inside of it. He'd also seen the two sets of footprints that hadn't been there before, how they'd led up to the house but hadn't led back to the car. He'd heard the frantic, angry barking and growling of the girls, too. The front door had been locked, but something was fucky here, and he was definitely not in the mood for it. Slowly, he reached up under his armpit and pulled his pistol from his chest holster. Flicking the safety off, he glanced around and carefully made his way further into the house. 

"Find 'em for me, girls," he murmured. "'M sure Ramsay would like some nice new playthings for when he gets back, huh?"

Willow and Helicent bolted up the stairs, their noses going a mile a minute as they sniffed all around. The smell was... vaguely familiar. Like it had been here before, but they couldn't figure it out and it drove them crazy, and the were up and down the stairs, all over every room. 

Kyra, meanwhile, was still checking out the first floor with Ben. Ygritte had spent some time investigating the living room before she'd gone down to the basement, so Kyra was occupied with a spot near the tv shelf. That is, until a much stronger scent finally caught her attention. She turned and followed it into the kitchen with Ben right behind her. 

Jon and Ygritte both sank back against the wall, breath catching in their throats as their hearts pounded like thunder in their chests. Jon kept Ygritte blocked with his body, and he wished so badly that they had been better prepared for this, or better yet, not came here at all. 

Finally, the basement door nudged open, and the instant Kyra laid eyes on the pair she started barking and snarling, Ben coming up behind her instantly with his pistol raised and aimed.

Jon yelped and threw his hands up in submission, quickly yelling out, "STOP, STOP, DON'T SHOOT, DON'T SHOOT, WE'RE COPS!!"

Ben hesitated, just barely, then he jabbed the gun in their direction again and snapped, "The fuck you are!! Who are you, what the  _fuck_ are you doing here?!"

Kyra knew that scent, it'd been here before, she was sure, but she couldn't quite place it. It reminded her of Theon, though, and her barks became unsure growls. Her sisters bustled in beside her, and at first they barked, but soon they were just growling, too. 

Jon's eyes darted between the three dogs and the gun pointed at him, and he tried to force himself to be calm. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, this was not good. He swallowed, then exhaled shakily and said as evenly as he could manage, "Sir, please. We  _are_ Northtown officers, we're just off-duty at the moment. My name is Jon Snow, and this is Ygritte Freefolk. Now... if you'll please lower the gun and call off the dogs, she and I will explain everything to you. Please, sir?"

Ben eyed them both suspiciously for a long, tense moment. 

"Fine," He finally grunted. He lowered the gun, but he didn't put the safety back on just yet. With a sharp, loud whistle, the three dogs were shuffling back into the kitchen, and he was stepping aside to let Jon and Ygritte through, gesturing at the table for them to sit. They did, but he remained standing, big arms cross with his hand still wrapped around his pistol. "Start talking."

"Um- uh, well-" Jon stammered, trying to figure out what to say. He couldn't just tell this guy they came to dig through Ramsay Bolton's things and find out what he was doing to their Theon, he couldn't just say, 'hey, yeah, we were trying to find some kind of probable cause here so we could get an official warrant and then send your jackass buddy to prison for life'! If he did that, he may as well just tell the other man to shoot them now and be done with it! He-

"We came here to fuck!" Ygritte blurted, and the two men both looked at her in surprise, Jon especially.

"You  _what_?" Ben asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Ygritte sighed heavily and crossed her arms, sounding a bit exasperated. "We came here to fuck, alright? Honestly, that's what we were here to do."

Ben looked skeptical. "… ** _Why_**."

"Because, you dope, we- ugh. We hate Ramsay, and we hate his and Theon's relationship. We were on a date and we were driving around, and when we came down Dreadfort Road, we saw this stupid house. I got this dumb idea that we should break in and fuck on his stuff, like, I dunno, like his bed, his couch, his kitchen table, wherever, and really stick it to him, y'know? I mean, he probably wouldn't  _know_ , but we would. We thought it would be funny and did it to spite him, but you caught us before we could actually start."

Jon stared at her in awe. If he didn't love her before, he sure as hell did now.

Ben stared, too, but more in annoyance and disbelief. He grunted and rubbed his face, shaking his head. "Oh, what the fuck, you dumb cunts... Are you serious? I nearly blasted a hole in you two fuck-headed cops because you wanted to screw around in someone else's house!"

"Er, yeah, sorry about that..." Jon said. 

Ben flicked the safety back on his gun before he holstered it, and then he stormed over to the front door. He threw it open and pointed. "Out. Get the fuck outta here."

Jon and Ygritte were quick to oblige, rushing towards the door like their asses were on fire. 

"Ramsay will hear about this!" Ben called out behind them, and the two cops had no doubt about that. 

They'd made it out alive and unscathed, but they weren't feeling very victorious at all when they finally got to their car, and the drive back to Ygritte's place was quiet and full of increasing worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet.   
> Thanks for reading!


	21. A Lesson in Discipline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the latest chapter, thanks for all the patience. I hope you guys had a lovely holiday. <3
> 
> Warnings for violence and gore.

This last week had been an absolutely amazing one, and Theon still couldn't get over the fact that it was very real and had actually happened. He'd even asked Ramsay a few times about whether or not this week was some fever dream or if he was a in coma or something, to which Ramsay jokingly replied that he could put Theon in a real coma if he wanted to be sure.

They'd spent the week making passionate love, cuddling, sharing compliments and sweet nothings, going on beautiful walks through the woods or taking drives down the mountain side... they'd even spent a whole day visiting one of the nearby towns and a national park he'd only ever been to once as a child with the Starks. He saw beautiful elks there, and he'd even seen a mother bear trotting by a stream with her two cubs.

On another day Ramsay had spent it teaching Theon how to hunt. He'd used the recurve bow that had been stowed away at the cabin, and with some practice – or, maybe just sheer luck - he'd managed to bag himself an 8-point buck as his first kill! Ramsay had said he was very proud of him and that he was also very impressed with him. Theon couldn't describe how good it felt to hear that.

Ramsay had even done him the honor of teaching him how to skin and prep the animal, and together they'd gathered a pelt, extra meat, and a lovely trophy skull to bring home. And, of course, they made sure to take some extra bones for the dogs. Theon couldn't help being proud of himself for the kill and the work he'd put into it – well, with Ramsay's help. He'd hunted before with Ned and Robert, but he'd never gotten a buck like that, and so there was a small part of him that really, really wanted to see both men again, especially Ned, so he could show them what he did all on his own. 

He tried not to think about that too much, though. 

Putting his sadder thoughts aside, he'd had an amazing week, one that felt like the old times, hell, even better than the old times, and he still felt a little high on it as they were driving along Dreadfort Road. 

Theon was cuddled up against Ramsay's side, dozing off some and feeling so, so nice as he listened to his man sing along softly to some old blues song on the radio. He smiled. He couldn't wait to get home and see the girls, get everything unpacked and then just flop down somewhere with Ramsay. They could just have another lazy, calm evening together, probably fall asleep on the couch or by the fireplace. Or maybe... maybe tonight, he could sleep in his master's bed with him, but for real, like under the covers and being held by him? That would be so lovely...

Before he knew it, they were pulled up to the house, and Theon was suddenly wide-awake, jumping out of the truck to rush to the back of the house so he could free the barking girls from their kennel. He opened the gates and let them out, and in an instant, he was bombarded by a horde of clumsy, slobbery dogs with too many kisses to give.

"Agh, nooo!!" He laughed and rolled in the snow, trying to protect himself from the onslaught of dog tongues and heavy, stomping paws. He rolled again and slipped out from under them, then ran back around the house to Ramsay with the three girls in tow, stumbling and giggling the whole way.

Ramsay looked up from the cover he was pulling off the truck bed and snorted. Sometimes his Reek was so child-like.

The girls saw Ramsay and darted around Theon, rushing towards their master to try and assault him with happy smooches, too, but they received a firm " ** _sit down_** " instead. Theon's smile waned just a little, a tad bummed that Ramsay didn't seem all that excited to see the girls, but he soon found himself melting a moment later. Ramsay pulled three deer bones from the truck and smirked down at the dogs before giving one to each, along with an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

"I'd better hear that you ladies behaved yourselves when I call Ben!" He called after them as they ran off to separate parts of the yard to gnaw their prizes. He turned to Theon now. "Help me unload this."

Theon did, and soon everything was unpacked from the truck and put away. Theon was shivering cold by the time they were done, his cheeks a cherry red and his nose running a bit, so he was delighted when the two of them finally went inside for good. He stomped the snow off his boots, then went to go flop on the couch. He sighed. This last weekend was absolutely lovely, and the cabin was a dream, but it really did feel good to be home.

Ramsay sat down beside him on the couch and pulled out his phone, grunting in annoyance when he saw something on the screen. "Fucking Ben, he knows I have shit reception out there, why'd he call me so much...?" 

Theon shrugged. "Something with the girls? They seemed okay to me?"

Ramsay gave his own shrug and called Ben's number. "We'll see, I guess. What- hello? Yes, Bones, why the hell did you call me so oft-." 

Theon looked up from the hem of his sweater sleeve when Ramsay abruptly went quiet, and he watched as the other man's expression went from one of annoyance to one of seething rage. Theon couldn't hear what was being said on the other line, but the change in his master's expression and the way things suddenly felt way too tense had his stomach dropping and beginning to pool with dread. Leaning away just a tad, he whispered, "Rams...?"

A sharp, hard look silenced him immediately.

Theon moved to get up and away from the couch, but Ramsay was quick and had him by the left wrist, making him yelp as he pulled and sat him right back down. There were no apologies that followed, nothing like there had been this last week whenever Ramsay had hurt him, and he felt an ache in his chest as he hugged his wrist close to himself.

Finally, Ramsay spoke again, his words grinding out through his gritted teeth, "I'll deal with it." With that, he hung up his phone and stood, body rigid and fingers twitching at his sides. His eyes were closed and his nostrils flared with deep, slow breaths, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. 

Theon sunk into the couch some and huddled in on himself a little more. "Rams, you're scaring me..."

Ramsay turned around to face him and smiled humorlessly, eyes wide and intense. "Oh, I am? Sorry! Sorry, darling, I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to be fucking angry at your  **stupid cop brother and stupid cunt girlfriend after** ** _they broke into my fucking house_**!!"

Theon winced at the yelling, and the tremors started to come back to his body after they'd been nearly gone most of the week. It took a moment, but the words finally connected in his head, and he peered up at Ramsay, confused. "What...?"

"You- agh. You fucking idiot." Ramsay took another deep inhale and willed himself to calm down, poorly. He wasn't yelling anymore, in fact, his tone was low and drawn out, but he was still as tense and volatile as before, and it just made Theon tremble harder. "Clear your ears out, Reek. Ben just told me that while we were out, Snow and Freefolk broke into my house. He caught them. You know what they said? They said they just came here to fuck, that it was just a 'joke' against me, but you know what, Reek, I don't fucking believe that. Do you? Do you believe they would do that? No, you don't, do you. You know what I  _do_ believe, though?"

Theon wasn't meeting Ramsay's eyes anymore, the stare too intense for him. He shook his head quickly. "I dunno, sir..."

"I believe that those two trespassed on my property and broke into my home so they could try and find something to use against me. I bet, I  _fucking_  bet, Reek, that they are looking to get me arrested so they can take you away for good. They just needed evidence. I bet they think they found some, hm?" He ducked down and snatched Theon's jaw into his hand, gripping it tightly and forcing the boy to look him in the eye. "But we didn't leave any 'evidence', did we? Did we??"

Theon shook his head again and whimpered. "N-no, sir. You-you treat me good, master, you're very sweet to me, very sweet, I bet- I bet that's all they found out!" The ginger didn't understand why Ramsay was being this way again. If there was nothing to worry about, then why was he so angry? Why was he taking it out on him again? All week, Ramsay said everything was fine and that they were perfect, that he was sorry and would try to be better, but now he wasn't even trying at all.

Ramsay looked at him for a long and very uncomfortable minute, sneering and glaring down at that pale face in his hand. Finally, he released him with a shove, then straightened back up. He began to pace. "They found things they're going to assume are bad. Things they don't understand. They don't understand us, Reek, they don't understand  ** _me_** , and they're going to take everything the wrong way and use it all against me. They're going to steal you away from me and then they're going to throw me in prison all because they don't understand."

Theon fidgeted with his sweater sleeve, eyes on Ramsay now that the other man wasn't really looking at him. "Well... Well, Rams, they-they haven't done anything, right? So... I mean, there's no cops looking around here, and no one but Ben has contacted you, not even your dad. So, um, so maybe things are okay? Maybe you're wrong?"

Ramsay snapped his attention to Theon before storming back over to him. Theon squeaked an apology and tried to cower, but Ramsay had him by the front of his sweater and was hauling him up off the couch. He got right in the smaller man's face and stared him down, teeth bared as he hissed, "I'm ' _wrong_ '?? I'm 'wrong', Reek?? Your family holds a very obvious danger to the two of us and you think I'm wrong about their real motives?? How fucking dumb can you be, Reek?? Do you really still think so well about these people that you actually believe Snow and his bitch were innocent? That they were just playing around, that their break-in was a joke??"

The little ginger trembled and whimpered, lip quivering and scared eyes darting. What happened? They'd been having such a nice time, things had been going so well, but now his Ramsay was angry again, now he was scaring him and making him feel bad. Well... Ramsay did say that things wouldn't be easy right away, that they'd have to try and that they'd both have to put in effort... and part of his effort is to start understanding more, right? He swallowed and timidly raised his bony hands, setting them both on Ramsay's own. "'M so sorry, master... I-I just... I dunno what I was thinking."

"Because you  _weren't_  thinking."

"Yeah. 'M so dumb, 'm sorry. P-please forgive me, I didn't mean anything, and you're right, you're always right, you're so much smarter. 'M sorry..."

He felt Ramsay's grip on his sweater slacken, and then the bigger man exhaled slowly and heavily before backing off an inch or two. Ramsay released Theon's sweater and moved his hands to cup his pet's pale face, and immediately the boy was sinking into the touch with a shaky sigh. "I understand, Reek. You can't help being the way you are. You don't know any better." He gave a pap-pap to Theon's cheeks that the boy didn't realize was more condescending than affectionate. 

"Yeah... So, um. If- y'know, if you want, Rams, I could talk to Jon? I could call him and-and tell him to stay away, tell him to leave us alone?"

Ramsay smiled and chuckled, giving a quick shade of his head. "No need for that, dearest, I've got something better in mind, something far surer to work in our favor." 

Theon tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Ramsay scoffed. "Well, I'm pressing charges, of course!" He turned to head for the entryway but was halted by Theon suddenly grabbing the back of his shirt.

"No-!!"

The bigger man went rigid, shoulders squaring and fingers curling. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression one of vicious warning for Theon to let go, which the ginger did. "You know better than to tell me 'no', Reek. Don't tell me you're forgetting your boundaries already."

Theon pulled his hands back to himself like Ramsay was made of fire, and he shook his head. "No!! N-no, 'm good, 'm still good! S'just... s'just... please, Rams..."

Ramsay scowled. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Reek, but you'd better have it straightened out by the time I get back." He continued towards the entryway.

Theon followed, sounding a little desperate. "Master, please!! I-I can convince him! I can convince all of them, please, just-just give me a chance!!" When Ramsay didn't stop, Theon yelled, "I can take the punishment for them!!"

This caused Ramsay to pause, and he turned slightly to face Theon with a humorless smirk on his face. He snickered. "Oho, really. Really, Reek, is that so? You'll 'take the punishment for them'?" The false smirk vanished and was replaced with another of those genuine scowls. He took a few steps toward Theon, and Theon took a few steps back. "Do you know what that sounds like to me? Do you know what I think that means, Reek?"

"Ramsay, I-"

"That sounds like betrayal to me. That sounds like you're loyal to someone else. I thought we were over that, Reek, I thought you were all mine and no one else's?"

"I am! Only yours, sir, always yours!! Always and forev-!"

"Then why would you dare suffer for them?! They've wronged me and you know it, you fucking know it, and yet here you are begging me to be merciful on them and have you take their punishment like you're some kind of martyr?? I thought we had an understanding, Reek. I thought you were loyal to me, I thought you finally understood how bad they were for us – for you!"

"I do, Rams, I do, but-!"

"Enough! You're going to stay here and you're going to fix yourself. You're going to think about your behavior and your attitude, and you're going to think about how you've hurt me just now. You're going to think about the way you've made me feel worse in such a terrible time, Reek, how instead of being supportive you've actually gone against me. I'd almost think you're no better than them."

"Ramsay... master, please..." Theon whimpered, eyes welling with tears. That hurt him deeply. He was never against Ramsay, never ever, he was always beside him! He just... he just loved his family still, he couldn't help it... he knew they didn't really mean anything bad, just like Ramsay never means anything bad. If only they could all just understand each other...

Ramsay looked him up and down with a disgusted sneer. He shook his head and turned to leave once more. "This is for our own good, Reek, you'll see. You'll understand soon enough when you finally open your eyes and realize how just how right I was all along."

Theon's breath began to quicken as he watched Ramsay get closer to the door. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and he felt his panic rising as he tried to figure out what to say to try and get the other man to stop. Anything, anything, but nothing came to mind, and all he could do was follow dumbly after him with his lip quivering and tears streaming down his face.

And then he saw it. 

There, on the table by the door, was the heavy glass ashtray he'd once used before on Ramsay. It was chipped and with little cracks, and there were still faded smudges of blood on the surface that hadn't quite been cleaned away. His big, green eyes darted between the ashtray and Ramsay, and before he could think straight, his hand was clutching the ashtray and raising it. 

Just as Ramsay's hand had twisted the knob of the door, Theon swung the ashtray down against his master's right shoulder and upper back, stunning him and sending him forward into the solid wood. Ramsay's face met with the door's own, a spatter of blood shooting from his nose and his newly-split lip as he dropped to the floor with a pained grunt. He lay there, a bit dazed, one hand going to his bloody face and the other going to the throbbing pain in his back. 

"What..." He groaned, spitting some blood.

Theon stared stunned, eyes wide and his mouth agape. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. He couldn't believe he'd just hurt his master, that he'd just done something so, so terrible. He dropped the ashtray with a loud, heavy thud, and he fell to his knees right beside Ramsay as he sobbed and shrieked, "'M sorry, 'm sorry, gods, 'm so sorry-!! Ramsay, 'm sorry, master, I didn't mean it, I-!!"

He reached a shaky hand out towards Ramsay's shoulder, but before he could touch him, the other man's big, bloodied hand snatched up his tiny wrist and ground the bones together with his far-too-tight grip. Theon cried out and tried to pull away, but he was yanked forward, hard, and the action made him bash the side of his head against the door. He saw stars and slumped against Ramsay, and before he could even clear his vision, the bigger man was already grabbing hold of him and throwing his weak body aside. 

"Rams-Ramsay, please-!" Theon said, trying to crawl away.

Ramsay was already on him, though. He was dizzy and in pain, and he could already feel a huge bruise forming, but the rage alone was enough to fuel him. He hefted Theon's frail body up into his arms and threw him across part of the living room, watching as the boy crashed to the floor with a wail of pain. Theon had just barely missed the edge of the coffee table, and the fact that he'd missed it and his pretty little head was still intact had another spark of anger lighting within Ramsay. Breathing hard, he looked around, and he spotted that fucking ashtray near his feet. He snatched it up and stalked over to a crying, pleading Theon. 

"Master!! Master, 'm so sorry, please, I didn't mean it!! Master, stop, no!!" Theon had backed himself up against the coffee table, and his skinny arms were raised in front of him in a poor defense. He was terrified and it showed, and he could barely get his pleas out through all his frantic, gasping sobs.

Ramsay didn't hear those pleas. They were nothing more than white noise as he reached down and yanked Theon closer by his ankle, dropping the boy flat on his back to the floor. He straddled those scrawny hips and stared wild-eyed down at his scared pet, expression intense as he raised the glass ashtray back and above his head.

Theon saw nothing in those eyes that could save him. He saw no love, no fear, no trace of empathy, no soul. Nothing but empty, cold rage, if that, and the sight of that dead-eyed stare had him convinced he was going to die tonight.

When the ashtray came down, it collided hard with the left side of Theon's jaw, and a loud, wet crack rang through the room followed by the heavy thud of one of the broken pieces of the ashtray flying off somewhere. It didn't come down again. 

Theon saw black, and then nothing. He lay there unconscious, his mouth filling with blood that poured out from the slack opening, taking with it bits of chipped and shattered teeth. There was blood on the side of Theon's jaw, too, where a gash had been caused by the ashtray breaking on his face, and bruising was already beginning to form. He felt none of it at the moment, and he lay there snoring and groaning awkwardly. 

Ramsay sat above him, hard in his jeans and feeling a tremor in his hands. His breathing was ragged and his pupils were blown, and his body shook with residual adrenaline as he stared down at his damaged pet with fascination and fading anger. 

He stayed like that for a while until the sight of Theon like that had calmed him enough to where his aching head had cleared and he felt like he could think again. 

Another moment passed, and then he finally dropped the other half of the ashtray and stood, wavering a bit from the slight vertigo his own head injury had given him. He bent to grab Theon by the wrist, then pulled the boy up and hefted him into his arms before walking to the door. There was blood smeared into the wood and in a puddle on the floor, and he sighed at all the clean-up that would need to take place when he got home. Grabbing his truck keys off the hook, he headed out to the vehicle and set a very limp Theon into the passenger's seat before climbing into the driver's side.

The girls came trotting out from behind the house, curious as to what was going on, Ramsay ignored them as he started the truck and began to drive down Dreadfort Lane. The three dogs followed the truck about half-way, barking and whining at their master, but they stopped after that and watched him drive off down the main road before turning back to the house. 

Ramsay paid them no mind, too focused on the unconscious boy beside him and the mixed emotions roiling inside his guts. He was angry, of course, still very angry, but he was also disappointed and hurt. He couldn't believe Reek, his Reek, had acted in such a way, that he had been so disrespectful and so disobedient, so...  _defiant_. It was as if Theon Greyjoy had been back in that house with him rather than his beloved Reek.

His jaw tensed and he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Beside him, Theon shifted against the seat and groaned as he started to wake from his unconscious state. The boy was in a daze, and his head felt like it had been put through a boxing match with Gregor Clegane. He winced at the evening light pouring in through the truck windows, and again at every bump in the road. His eyes were squinting, but he could see shades of red, and parts of him felt sticky. When he reached up to touch the wet tackiness on his face, he yelped sharply and pulled his hand away, and he was hit with another series of pains as he realized something was very wrong with his mouth. He couldn't really move his jaw, and it hurt to even move his tongue, and when he closed his eyes he had a sudden burst of images in his head where he was on his back and Ramsay was above him, ashtray in hand, and then there was darkness. 

Now he had an idea of what had happened. 

Scared of what he might see, what he dreaded to find out, he reluctantly pulled the visor down from the ceiling and opened the mirror. He gasped at the sight of his own broken, bruised and bloodied jaw, and his shaky hands came up around it. He whimpered when he looked a little closer and saw the inside of his mouth. It was hard to tell with all the blood, but it looked like at least three teeth were gone with an additional two that had been broken. 

Theon moaned and started to cry, shaky hands covering the lower half of his face without touching it. The crying only added to the pain; every little movement of his face was awful. He couldn't help it, though, he was just too heartbroken by what Ramsay had done to him. 

Ramsay watched all this from the corner of his eye, feeling nothing as his pet woke up to pain and became an emotional mess.  _Serves you right... you spit in my face, I break yours..._

"We're going to the hospital." He stated, tone even and quiet.

Theon felt only slight relief at hearing that. He huddled in on himself and pressed up against the door, trying to lean as far away from Ramsay as possible. He sat there shaking the whole time, jumping and whimpering at every little movement Ramsay made as if the other man was a vicious dog and he was a helpless rabbit - which, he honestly felt like that's how it was now. 

Ramsay didn't care. Each frightened twitch brought a sense of ease and satisfaction to him. Good. It was good that his Reek was scared right now. Perhaps that would bring some common sense back into that empty little head of his?

A short while later, the two of them pulled up to the hospital, and Ramsay brought a timid Reek out and began leading him towards the ER. He had one hand on the ginger's inner elbow, the other around his back, and to an outsider's perspective it might look like one friend supporting another. To Theon, it was a deceivingly-painful, tight hold on him, one that made him even more intimidated and fretful. He kept his eyes downcast as they walked, his free hand hovering over part of his face.

"Now," Ramsay said, voice low so only Theon would hear. "When we get there, I will tell them you were kicked by one of father's horses. I will show them my own bruises on my back and face, and, again, mention the horses. You will confirm this. Do you understand?"

Theon gave a small, pained whine, but he nodded slowly. "Uh-huh," was all he could manage with the state his jaw was in.

"Good." 

They were tended to immediately upon their arrival, Theon in particular. Ramsay spoke for the both of them, just as they'd – as he'd – decided, talking about how they'd been visiting Roose when the horses were spooked by a fox. When they went to reign one in, it had panicked more and had kicked the both of them, catching Ramsay in the back and Theon in the jaw. Ramsay's bloody nose and split lip were apparently from his impact with the ground after being kicked. 

Theon didn't deny any of this, not that he really could, anyway, not while he was being worked on and drugged up for the pain. Besides, Ramsay was always such a good liar, and his story seemed to fall so easily from his lips that if Theon didn't know any better, he'd think it was the truth. The doctors were inclined to believe him, what, with the lack of any fight wounds on either man's hands or knuckles even though they were both injured, and they did carry thick, crescent-shaped bruises that may or may not have appeared to be horseshoe marks.

Once again, his master was in the clear. 

Theon was too miserable, and then too out of it to care. At first, all he could think about was how things had gone so very wrong in just a matter of less than one measly hour. They'd had a wonderful week, one that made him fall completely head-over-heels in love with his master all over again and had him thinking things would be good for, well, for good. Then, that phone call happened, and suddenly his master was angry and sad, and then there was black and pain, and now they were in a hospital together. 

Gee, what a wonderful evening this turned out to be...

After that, though, Theon didn't think much of anything at all, too doped up by the pain meds while the doctors so kindly fixed his jaw with some light surgery and then wired it shut for him, as well as stitched up that nasty cut in his cheek. 

Ramsay was checked for a concussion and any fractures, but there was nothing more than bruises and some swelling, so they cleaned him up and gave him ice packs for his back and face.  _Perfect_ , he thought. He didn't need to be wasting time caring for any broken bones or head injuries. He didn't need to let himself be vulnerable.

 

* * *

 

 

They spent the rest of the night in the hospital, and much of the next day, too, while the doctors kept an eye on Theon after his procedure and let him rest up. Ramsay stayed most of that time.

While he sat around, he spent all his time mulling over the previous evening's events. He let his rage seethe until it was boiling over, and soon enough it had him getting up and leaving the waiting room. 

He stormed back out to his truck, and when he got there he decided he was going to go for a nice, long drive. It was early. It was 5:00 am, and it was very cold and dark, but there were few other cars on the roads and nothing but silence in his truck's cabin. Normally, this would have calmed him, hell, it would have been like meditation to him, but not this morning. He couldn't quite get over what had happened the night before, there was just too much anger still burrowed away in his chest. He had to do something about that, it really wasn't healthy to have all that pent-up anger.

Ramsay drove for a little while longer until he found a lonely girl seated at a bus stop with a large suitcase at her side. 

She was some pretty, young blonde thing, cold and anxious out there at that tiny, empty bus stop, and when he pulled over she seemed immediately tempted by the warmth of the truck and the handsome, friendly smile flashing her way. 

They briefly chatted through the open passenger's side window, and she told him she was waiting for the next bus to come along. She didn't care which, as long as it took her out of town and away from her "lousy home life". He told her he was actually headed to King's Landing for a job interview and that if she wanted he could give her a ride, but he'd need to stop at his house first.

She looked relieved by his offer, and without further hesitation she threw her bag in the truck bed and hopped into the cabin. She was a little jarred by the dried blood she found in the passenger's side, but Ramsay quickly calmed her as he told her the same thing he'd told the doctors about the horse kicking him and his poor roommate.

He feigned embarrassment as he said, "I didn't want to leave him alone at the hospital, but I couldn't afford to miss this interview!"

They laughed and she said she understood. 

Then, he proceeded to listen to her whine and bitch about her life for the remainder of the drive. She bitched about how her parents were mean to her and that no one respected her, how her friends were all jealous, that she wanted to start anew somewhere else and make some changes. 

He didn't care. He didn't care about any of that, in fact, it took everything in him not to swing his arm across the cabin and crack her on the mouth with his fist. He kept his cool, though, just barely, and let her vent the whole way home.

Finally, they pulled up to the house, and oh, how excited she was to see the dogs when they ran towards the vehicle. She immediately got out of the truck to play with them while Ramsay went inside to change his clothes.

She was laughing happily and cooing at the girls until she saw him coming back out onto the porch, the same bloodied clothes on his back and and a hunting rifle in his gloved hands. The rifle had her stunned, but the manic look on his face and the determined gait he had as he strode towards her had her screaming and breaking into a run.

Ramsay whistled sharply for the dogs to stay put, and he watched the girl as she ran off towards the darkness of the pines rather than straight back down Dreadfort Lane. That was kind of her to make him work for it. He really did need to settle the rage in his bones, and a good, refreshing hunt would be just the thing to do the trick. It would clear his head and maybe ease his anger towards his defiant little Reek.

He gave her a full five-minute head-start, just as he did with all his prey, and when the time was up he started following her foot prints in the snow. The dogs trotted along in front of him, sniffing and wagging their tails, snorting and huffing and occasionally throwing out a howl.

 They always got excited about the hunts, too. 

Once they hit the tree-line, he gave another shrill whistle, and in an instant, the dogs were bolting off into the pines, barking and howling in a frenzy. In the distance, he could hear a terrified sob burst out from the girl, and a shark-like grin broke out over his face. 

Ahh, it'd been far too long since he'd been on one of  _these_  hunts. He'd been slacking with Reek around. 

He'd last had a human hunt with the boys about four months ago, and the prey had been some fun, cocky little business student they'd taken from a bar and brought out to Damon's property. The guy had put up a damn good chase, and he'd very nearly gotten away from them, too. Then, he'd had an unfortunate run-in with a gopher hole that had broken his ankle. 

His reward for his efforts had been a quick death.

Ramsay hoped this girl would give him fun, long chase like that. If not, well, he'd at least still have a good way to vent his frustrations. A win-win for him either way, really.

The woods around his property were dead silent now, just as they always were, and he stopped for a moment to close his eyes and tilt his head back, reveling in the cold still of the morning. 

A small wave of nostalgia hit him as he became reminded of his times chasing Theon through these woods. Gods, what a hunt each time... Theon had tried so, so hard to get away, and he'd even almost let Death take him that last time. But, he just wasn't as good as his master, and both attempts to escape had failed. 

Still, Ramsay knew the boy was worthy then. He knew for sure Theon was strong enough, good enough, to be his Reek when he saw the boy pull himself from Death's freezing grasp and crawl head-on into life again.

Now, though... well, he had to admit, last night had him feeling doubtful about that certainty he once felt, and he was still a little doubtful now as he stood in these woods. 

His Reek was really shaping up to be perfect. He was getting better and better with the obedience, getting more submissive and sweet, but that complete lack of respect last night... he could honestly say he hadn't been expecting that. It embarrassed him to admit how stunned he'd been when that ashtray had collided with his back, and he absolutely loathed the hurt and betrayal he felt after realizing why his pet had done what he had. 

Reek had been so loyal, so dedicated and so  _Ramsay's_ , and then he'd fucking gone and cracked his master with that godsdamned ashtray just as Theon had done once before, all because he still had feelings for those fucking Starks.

Well, that was going to change. He was going to be certain of that, really certain, not like last time. He was going to make sure Theon was really, truly dead, and that his Reek would never disobey him like that ever again. 

He'd been lost in his thoughts as he walked, and he was only just now hearing the tell-tale barking of his girls that told him they had cornered his prey. He gave a pout; was the hunt over already? Well, he supposed it couldn't last too long, he really did have to go back to the hospital and pick his pet back up at some point. He followed the girls' barking and the remaining foot prints in the snow, and soon he got to where the three of his cane corsos were sniffing all around in an agitated state. He frowned for real this time, annoyed.

"You idiots, you lost her scent? How?? Y-"

And then it dawned on him. His grin came creeping back to his face, and he stopped his complaining as he started stepping around a particularly lush pine tree that had the girls going mad. 

"Ah, I see," He said. "So, our little friend fancies herself a squirrel, does she?" 

He stopped and listened for any sounds of branches rustling or any heavy breathing nearby, but there was nothing, not even a single sniffle. 

Cocking the bolt on his rifle, he started to stroll around again, whistling softly, his eyes inspecting the surrounding area for any movement just in case he was wrong about his first guess.

There was a tiny snap, and then the shuffle of a small stick as it fell from somewhere up above and behind him. He'd nearly missed it with his whistling and the crunching of snow beneath his boots, but oh, he'd caught it. He turned and raised the rifle up, peering through the sights as he slowly roved the weapon over the full pine branches. 

Just the smallest hint of movement, perhaps from her trembling, jostled a cluster of pine needles. The tiny, brief movement gave her away, and he fired.

The girl cried out in surprise and pain, and she dropped from her hidden perch. She noisily fell through the branches before crashing into the snow and dirt, and before she could even try and crawl away, the girls were on her. They dove under the bottom branches and caused further shrill screaming as they grabbed her by her arms and dragged her out, growling and snarling. She thrashed and kicked, and she managed to get one arm free, which she used to try and smack Willow in the face. The dogs had been so sweet to her back at the house, so friendly and affectionate, but now they were treating her as if she was a wounded deer. 

"Enough!" Ramsay snapped.

The girls released her and backed right off, moving to sit out of the way. They eyed the girl and whined, wiggling impatiently.

"Sorry about them, they get a little excited sometimes." Ramsay said, chuckling as he stepped closer to her. 

Immediately, she latched onto his boot and clawed at his leg, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes as she sobbed. 

"Please!! Please, mister, you can't do this! Please, I'll do anything, I won't tell, I promise! I promise, I won't!! I'll do anything, just let me go home, just take me home!!"

Ramsay feigned another pout. "Aww, you were fighting so nicely, and now you want to beg? You'll fight my girlies, but you won't fight me?"

" ** _Please_**!!" She dropped her face to the snow and wept, her hands still pulling at his jeans and at his boots. She was muffled, but he still heard her as she begged, "Please, gods, I'll do anything,  _anything_  you- you want, I swear! I swear... please, mister, don't kill me... I promise, anything..."

"Hmm..." Ramsay pretended to mull it over in his head for a moment. "' _Anything_ ', you say?"

She looked up at him and nodded vigorously, her reddened eyes streaming with tears. "Yes! Yes, anything, whatever you want!!"

He smiled. "Okay! How abouuut... you run for me."

Her lip quivered and her brows furrowed in confusion. "I-… but my leg?"

"You said whatever I wanted, right? I want you to run for me. So, run."

The girl wasted no more time. She used Ramsay's legs to pull herself up, struggling as she did so, and she yelped and tried to hold back a cry as she put weight on her injured limb. Still, she was desperate to live, and she fought through the terrible pain to try her best and make a run for it. 

She could do this. She could fight through the pain and the blood and the cold and make her way back to the road. She'd find somebody to help her, someone sane who could take her to a hospital where she'd get fixed up. Then, she'd call the police, and she'd get this psychopath arrested and his dogs put down. She'd go home to her parents and she'd never run away again.

Those plans gave her a small burst of hope and strength, and she forced herself to try to run faster.

Ramsay appreciated her spirit, and he let her get about fifteen yards away or so before he raised his rifle and fired, shooting her in the back. She dropped to the snow, and he strode over.

When he got to her side, he was staring off into the dark, gasping and giving her last little twitches. She looked up at him when he crouched down next to her, fear and suffering in her wide, wet eyes.

"But... b-but you said... I ran... you prom- you promised..." She rasped, blood dribbling from her mouth.

"Mmmnooo, no.  _You_  made promises." He 'booped' her on the nose. " _I_ didn't." 

She tried to respond to that, but the light faded from her eyes and her last breath rattled out of her throat. She went still. 

He stared at her a moment, wanting to remember her like he did all his other hunts. Once the image was firmly stuck in his mind, he rolled the girl over and began to undress her. Once she was stripped, he stood and stretched, yawning. Then, he snapped his fingers over the corpse and the dogs came running, the three of them pouncing on the body as they started to rip into it

"Have at 'er, ladies. Daddy has to go pick up Reek!"

The dogs ignored him, too busy with their morbid feast. He turned and headed back for the house.

"Remember to head home when you're done! You know the rules, you've stayed out long enough already!"

When he checked his phone, it was nearly 8:30 am, and the sun was beginning to break over the pines and touch his property. He knew he'd have to head over to the hospital soon, but first he'd have to tend to a few things. That suitcase would need burning, the blood in the house and truck would need scrubbing, and he'd need a good shower and a change of clothes! He could use a good breakfast, too, seeing as Reek's pesky behavior cost him dinner last night.

He figured Reek would be up and ready to go by the time he got down to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

 

It was early afternoon, and they were on their way home. 

Theon rode in the passenger's side, a drowsy, medicated little mess with an ice pack in one hand and a juice box in the other, and he sluggishly, awkwardly sipped at the tiny straw while his half-lidded eyes staring sleepily out the front windshield. 

He hadn't spoken at all since Ramsay had met up with him again, not that he really could with his jaw wired shut, and he hadn't made more than a few grunts or hums. He got a little wary when he saw Ramsay, but he wasn't trembling like he had earlier, and that was probably due to the painkillers they'd giving him, making him too woozy to mind much.

Ramsay didn't mind the quiet little Reek that sat next to him, but he was a bit irritated. How was he supposed to teach a proper lesson if the boy seemed like he was about to doze off any moment?

Ah well, he'd just let his pet sleep it off a little, and then he'd have a talk with him. It would be good. They'd have a nice, calm talk together, one where they'd reach an understanding and work out their issues like a proper couple. There would be no ashtrays and certainly no disobedience involved. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon had napped on the couch for several hours, sleeping off some of the heavier drugs he'd received at the hospital. When it was nearing late afternoon, he finally woke up, rolling over with a thick, groggy groan and a tiny, muffled whine at the stiff ache in the lower half of his face. He pushed himself up from the couch and sat there, head feeling a bit thick and not quite adjusted. 

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, then looked around and saw that he was back home at the Dreadfort property. Ah, so that drive back here wasn't just a dream... 

Feeling some of his anxiety creeping back in, he hunched in on himself a bit and slowly, quietly got up, eyes wandering around in search of his master. Was Ramsay here? Gods, he hoped not... the other man had really, truly frightened him, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever seen him so angry. He didn't want to deal with Ramsay if the guy was still pissed off. Maybe, if he could just sneak off to his room up in the attic, he could sleep the rest of the day away there? He could stay out of Ramsay's way and let the guy cool down. Yeah. Yeah, that'd be a good idea. 

He was nearly tip-toeing up the first flight of stairs as he tried to be as quiet as possible, and just as he was rounding the corner to get to the next set of steps, he nearly ran head-on into Ramsay. A choked yelp came out of him, and he stumbled back in surprise and lost his footing on the top step. Ramsay was quick, though, and he caught the smaller man by the arm and pulled him back onto the landing.

"Careful there, Reek," He said with amusement. "You very nearly went for a little tumble, didn't you?"

Theon went tense at Ramsay's touch, and his eyes darted right down to the floor as he began to tremble. He nodded. "Mhm..." He winced as he felt that big hand trail up from his arm to his face to brush his bangs aside, but he didn't pull away. He didn't want to be rude, not again.

"I'm glad to see you're awake. Did you sleep well? You were very, very drowsy when I brought you home."

The other man's tone was casual, not a trace of anger to it, but still, Theon was on his guard. He knew from too much experience just how easily a placid Ramsay could go full-blown volatile in only a matter of seconds. "M-mhm."

"Good." Ramsay set his hands on those hunched, frail shoulders, and he slowly rubbed Theon's shivery upper arms as he looked him up and down. Theon's jaw was wired back into place, but one side was still a bit swollen and deeply bruised. He was lovely. But, no matter how lovely he was, he was still a bad boy who needed to be disciplined and spoken to. He'd never learn otherwise. "Go grab your boots and get a coat on. I'd like us to go for a little walk."

Theon made a little whimpering noise behind all that wiring and all those rubber bands. There was a tiny pool of dread filling in his belly, and for once he didn't want to go for a walk. Still, he was Reek, and he was going to do exactly as he was told, so he slipped out from under Ramsay's touch to head downstairs. 

When he was dressed and ready to go, he sat waiting for his master at the bottom of the stairs, absently playing with the side flaps of his ushanka. 

He really didn't want to go for this walk... well, he just really didn't want to be around Ramsay right now in general. But he supposed he should, because maybe they were going to go on this walk to have a talk or something? He would like to properly apologize to Ramsay, or at least, somehow make it known that he genuinely was sorry and that he hadn't meant any offense and he especially hadn't meant to hurt his master like he had. 

He felt terrible about what he'd done. It had been completely unnecessary, a terrible over-reaction on his part, and all it did was hurt his master and get him hurt, too. He could understand why Ramsay reacted the way he did, who wouldn't in that situation? It was instinct, the man had to defend himself, and that's what he did. And hey, that was all he did; Ramsay had known when to stop, he'd known when the threat was over, and he'd known that he hadn't needed to go any farther than what he'd already done. 

Theon was still alive, and he'd definitely learned his lesson. He'd never do anything like that ever again.

Soon, Ramsay came back down, and the two of them were headed out. Ramsay gave Theon a little bit of space, seeing as how the boy still seemed frightened and unsure of him, but they kept fairly close. 

They trudged along in the snow, heading towards the tree line. Theon was a tad absent-minded as they walked, and he didn't pay much if any, attention to the sets of foot and pawprints already leading the way ahead of them.

"I'm sure you know why we're out here, Reek," Ramsay said. He didn't wait for a response, knowing he wouldn't be getting much more than muffled noises during this whole conversation. "I wanted us to try and talk things out. I wanted us to get passed last night's...  _events_. We weren't ourselves, and I want to be sure we both understand that. I want to be sure that it'll never happen again."

Theon was glad to hear that, because he wanted the same. He quickened his trot to be a little closer to Ramsay. 

"I know you were overwhelmed by your emotions, by your feelings for the Starks. I hate to admit it, but I know you still love them for whatever reason. I suppose it's because they raised you, that you still hold onto the belief that they actually love and respect you, genuinely. I get that now, but last night I wasn't willing to see that through my anger. I let it get the best of me, and instead of really listening to your reasoning, I was determined to get back at them, and that caused you to react in a completely emotional, irrational way."

Theon listened as they walked, not making a sound. He didn't have to; he agreed, and Ramsay already knew. When Ramsay stopped among the trees, Theon did, too, and the boy absently flinched when Ramsay reached out to touch him. He immediately averted his gaze and hunched in on himself despite those big hands already taking a gentle hold on his face.

"Oh, Reek," Ramsay sighed. "Look what you made me do to your pretty little face..." He carefully stroked the pad of his thumb along the fresh stitches of that deep cut on Theon's face, and the ginger winced a little as the touched pressed just a tad too much into the wound and the bruises surrounding it. 

"And your jaw, gods... but you saw that, you saw what happened. Your slack mouth, those broken teeth, all that blood..." He drawled a little on those words, casual as he said them. "You shouldn't have made me so angry, though. You know better than to attack me like that. You really, really hurt your master, Reek."

Theon's bottom lip quivered, and a tiny squeak escaped his throat. He did know better, but he went and did such a terrible, cruel thing anyway... and look where it got him! A broken jaw and a rift in his beloved master's trust, something he'd worked so damn hard to gain and strengthen. 

' _I'm so sorry_ ,' he tried to mouth as best he could. 

Ramsay understood. He smiled, pleased, but not quite sated, because he knew his Reek was sorry, but not quite sorry enough. He didn't believe the boy had learned his lesson or the full gravity of his actions just yet. His thumb dragged along those stitches again in a rough caress, and he leaned in to press a kiss against a cut on Theon's lip. The way the boy trembled made his cock twitch in his jeans. "I know. I have something to show you, darling. Will you follow me?"

Ramsay didn't even need to ask. Theon was already at his heels as they continued on through the trees, curious about what it was he needed to be shown. He wanted very much to ask about what it was, but he couldn't get out much more than a grunt, and so he stopped any attempts at pestering. Maybe it would be a nice surprise? He started to notice a mess of numerous large pawprints in the snow that had to belong to the girls, so maybe it had to do something with them?

And then a sudden feeling of dread came over him, one that had clutched at him so suddenly and terribly it felt like his guts had just been struck by an arrow. 

The girls... he hadn't seen them at all since he'd gotten home, hadn't even heard their barking, and he found it strange that they weren't with them on this walk. But now, there were these familiar pawprints, and his master had something to show him... had Ramsay done something to one of - to all - of them?? Had he punished them because of Theon's stupidity??

Theon couldn't handle the thought, and he abruptly stopped walking, his head bowing and his shoulders starting to shake as he began to weep. Ramsay turned to look at him, a little surprised by the random bout of crying. 

"Reek?" He came over to the boy and hooked a finger under his bruised chin, tilting his head up. The ginger's face was screwed up with emotion, and his eyes were becoming red-rimmed as they spilled over with more tears. Choked and muffled little squeaks and whimpers were slipping through his lips. "What's gotten into you, what's the matter? What's wrong, now?"

Theon hesitated, then pointed a shaky finger at some of the pawprints closest to them. Ramsay raised a brow and looked down at them, then back at Theon. He didn't understand.

"What about them? Those are just the girls'." He then rolled his eyes and scoffed, laughing. "Oh gods, Reek, don't tell me you're upset because they didn't come visit you this morning. They're just out on the property somewhere, you know how they get when they're loose! Either you're still loopy off those meds, or you're more emotional than I thought."

Theon stopped mid-sob and looked at Ramsay, sniffling. His cheeks flushed pink under the bruises as embarrassment hit him, and he mouthed, ' _You didn't... you didn't hurt them...?_ '

Ramsay snorted. "Shit, no, what good would that serve me? They're prime hunting dogs, they took forever to train, it would be a waste to just off them because of a little misunderstanding - one that I know won't ever,  _ever_  happen again. Besides, I think the ashtray taught you a little more respect than a dead dog ever would, ha!" His tone was a jesting one, and he tap-tapped at Theon's cheek when he mentioned the ashtray, making the smaller man cringe. 

' _Sorry, I'm dumb... I shouldn't have assumed._ ' 

"That's alright. Come, we're nearly there." Ramsay turned and continued on, Theon following after him.

They walked along for a short while more, and Theon began to notice more than just the pawprints scattered around. There was a trail of large, deep boot-prints that he recognized as Ramsay's, but there was also a mess of much smaller, lighter sneaker-prints, and he wondered just who they could have belonged to. Ramsay's were in an even, clean trail, but the dainty prints looked clumsy and aimless, all over the place. 

His confused gaze was focused on the prints until he came to a large, full pine tree. The prints seemed to stop there, and, still curious about them, he stepped closer to the tree and pried apart a couple branches to peer inside. He couldn't see very well with the dim lighting inside, but the snow in there was disheveled and there were several broken branches, as if something – or someone – had fallen. What really caught his attention, though, were the dark red droplets of what looked like blood scattered and then smeared in a trail that led under a separate set of branches near the bottom. 

Theon frowned and pulled away from the branches he held. Was that blood? Did it belong to whoever it was that owned those little footprints? He moved around the tree, intending to bring Ramsay over, but when he did he saw the drag marks in the snow and even more of that red smeared in them. His stomach flipped when he saw those markings stopped right in front of another set of Ramsay's boot-prints. 

Something didn't feel right.

He noticed a mess of snow, then more of those little footprints, but they weren't as clean as before. They were lop-sided and dragged, slower-looking, and there were more droplets of blood. He followed them along, absently noticing the neat boot-prints following beside them, and as he walked he noticed a strong, almost overwhelming, tang of copper in the air. 

Theon finally looked up to see Ramsay standing less than fifteen feet away from him near a pile of something glossy and crimson in a load of red-soaked, pawprint-spattered snow. 

For a moment, only a moment, he thought it was a deer that had been skinned. Before he could even get a proper look, he was suddenly hit with yet another terrible wave of dread, a heavy feeling that told him something was very wrong, and it make his heart thud and his stomach do another flip. When he took a few steps closer, he saw why; near one of the feet of the 'deer' was a bloody, torn sneaker, one that fit the little prints he'd been following. 

There, lying sprawled before Ramsay, was what looked like the mangled remains of a teenaged girl. Her clothes were scattered and in shreds, and it looked like whole chunks of her had been gnawed and eaten away. An arm was missing, and her left femur was exposed to the cold air, glimmering in the dim sunlight. The scene smelled like pennies and pine, and the girls were nowhere to be found, but the evidence of what they had done lie stiff and frozen on the ground.

With a look of absolute horror on his face, Theon's body jolted hard, and he stumbled back with a loud, muffled scream. He flailed and fell back onto his ass, unable to pull his eyes away from the sight before him, and he quickly scurried backwards until he hit the trunk of a tree. Immediately after his back collided with the bark, he threw his face towards the snow and began to vomit. He was making a mess with the way his teeth were clamped together, but the gaps in-between and the space from his broken teeth let some of it out. 

There was the crunch of boots in the snow, and then a heavy hand started to pat at his back, his master's voice gently chiding him. "Oh, Reek, Reek, Reek, don't you remember what the doctor said about vomiting with your jaw like that? You have to be careful, dearest! What if you suffocated? Hm? Oh well, get it all out or swallow it down, come on."

Theon did choke down what he could, which thankfully wasn't much, and then a dull wail carried itself out between his teeth as he began to cry. When one of Ramsay's large, cold hands grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up, the other hand moved to grip his jaw and make him face the scene. He sobbed harder, shutting his eyes tight and shaking his head. 

"No, no...!!" He moaned aloud.

Ramsay's lips touched his ear, cold and wet as they purred, "Now, now, Reek, don't you shut those eyes. I want you to get a good look at what you've caused."

The ginger's eyes snapped open and he tried to look at Ramsay, gaze wild and confused.

 " ** _Me_**?!" He shrieked through his clamped teeth.

Ramsay nodded, only the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, Reek.  _You_. That was an innocent girl whose only crime was climbing into the truck of a very sad, very hurt, very betrayed man. If you hadn't broken my heart like that and made me so, so angry and upset, then I wouldn't have had to take it out on her. If you had been a good boy, a good,  _loyal_ boy, she never would have met me and she would still be alive. A girl lost her life because of you."

Something seemed to dawn in those tear-filled, bloodshot eyes, and it was then that Theon wailed again, nearly collapsing against Ramsay. 

"'M sorry! 'M so, so sorry, oh gods!" He tried to say, his words a slurred, smothered mess.

"Oh, now don't go telling that to me, dear!" Ramsay pulled Theon back into the previous position and moved the boy's head back to facing the corpse. He nodded in its direction. "She's the one who deserves your apologies." 

"Please..." Theon begged at the corpse, at Ramsay, at the Drowned God, at anyone who would listen. "Please, 'm so sorry! 'M sorry, please!!"

Ramsay watched with an intensity as those green eyes stared at the remains through all those tears. He reveled in the way that bruised, stitched face was screwed up with pain and terror, and his cock began to stir at those desperate, miserable cries. He felt the sudden, strong urge to pin Theon down by the corpse and fuck him in her frozen blood, but he restrained himself and instead chose to further scold his pet, his voice as sweet and gentle as ever. 

"You see, my love, when you do bad things, you're not the only one who suffers because of it. There have been times, many times, where you've made me so angry, and because of it someone else got hurt in your place. You remember those times you ran away? Or when you first fought me with that  _fffucking_ ashtray?"

He felt Theon stiffen in his grasp. 

"You see, you make me do these terrible, terrible things when you hurt me, Reek. When you hurt me, I can't bear to hurt you back, not as bad as what you did to me, so I find someone I don't love, someone I don't care about, and take it out on them instead of you." He feigned a heavy sigh and loosened his hold on Theon. "I know you didn't mean to, that you never mean to, but you're just so careless and selfish sometimes, and I wish you didn't make me do these things because of it. I wish you would just be a good boy and stop hurting me, Reek..."

Theon didn't even notice the hand brushing his bangs from his eyes. All he could see was a blurry mess of red and pink and white, and for once in his life he wished he was completely blind. 

Before this, he'd seen a few dead bodies in pictures or on tv, and only three of them in person. Those three had been his dead mother and brothers, and the funeral home had done well to make their corpses look peaceful and resting. They'd made him sad, maybe even a little scared, but with them he'd never felt the absolute horror and revulsion like what he was feeling now. 

No, that girl, that... that  _thing_... her remains were unlike anything he could have ever imagined. He'd seen plenty of animal corpses that had been mangled by car tires or ripped to shreds by dogs and wolves, but none of them compared to the body that lay only a few yards away from him. 

Finally, he couldn't force himself to look any longer, and he shut his sore eyes tight before he buried his face against Ramsay's chest, back heaving with his sobs. 

All this was his fault. All this was because he tried to defend people who were actually trying to hurt him and Ramsay. All this was because he worried about the wrong people and ended up hurting his poor master. He caused this. That girl didn't have to die, and- and those other people, whoever they were... gods, how many  _were_ there...? They didn't have to die, but because he'd been so stupid, so careless, so cruel, he'd ended up causing their deaths. If only he had been a good boy, if only he had been his master's loyal and loving Reek!

"'M so sorry..." He whimpered in a weak slur, jittery hands clutching tightly to Ramsay's front. "Gods, 'm so sorry... please forgive me..."

Ramsay stroked his crying pet's hair and gently shushed him. After a while, when his pet had calmed down some, he said, "I'm sure she'd understand. I'm sure she'd try her hardest to forgive you. They all would." He pried Theon off his chest and cupped the boy's tear-streaked face, tilting it up to speak directly to him. " _I_ forgive you, Reek."

Theon seemed to barely look at him, his stare distant underneath all those tears. He squeaked a muffled hiccup, chest jerking a little with weak hyperventilation from all that hard crying.

"Are you ready to go home, now?"

Theon nodded quickly, but he could barely get up, still dazed from what he'd just experienced. Ramsay helped him up, and he continued to support him as they walked back to the house. 

He missed the lingering, satisfied look his master had thrown back at the corpse from over their shoulders, unable to take his eyes off the snowy ground below their feet.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon spent the rest of the day in a stupor, still unable to grasp just what it was he'd experienced. Every time he closed his eyes for longer than a blink, his vision filled with flashes of reds, and whites, and pinks, and his body ached from the trembling that followed. 

He hadn't said a word since they'd gotten home, not even when the girls finally came out of the woods to greet him with their bloodied muzzles. He loved those dogs dearly, but in that moment, the sight of them and the knowledge of what they had done to that poor girl's body had sent him running back into the house for another round of frightened crying. 

He couldn't look at them again, not yet. 

Ramsay had left Theon alone for the rest of the day, too busy dealing with the dead girl's remains to pay his pet much mind. He'd briefly considered having Reek handle the corpse, but, well, maybe he'd traumatized him enough for one day. He did think it would have been rather nice to hear and see even more of his pet's miserable crying, but oh well. Reek cried often enough, so it wasn't like he was missing anything.

When he'd finally come back in, he discovered that Theon had gone to bed early, so he'd invited his boys over for a few hours while his fretful little Reek either slept or cried some more. The boys weren’t there for longer than four hours as he'd chased them off when he began to feel exhausted. 

There were a few... hitches, but over-all it had been a rather pleasant day for him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon had managed to get to sleep a few times throughout the evening, but none of those attempts had been for very long. Every time he'd finally managed to drift off, he'd be waking right up a few minutes later the moment his dreams started to creep in with images of red snow and glistening bone and muscle.

It happened again at about 3:30 in the morning. He woke with a gasp and a few stray tears trailing down his cheeks, skin sticky with sweat and his chest heaving from his quickened breaths as he tried to shake the residual images from his head. 

This had been the worst of the nightmares so far, and it left him more rattled than any of the others had. In this dream, he had been wandering through the woods when soft sobbing had hit his ears. He'd followed the sound through the trees as it had grown louder and more heart-broken, and after running for a while he'd finally found a young woman huddled up against a tree, her back turned to him. 

She had looked frail and cold, shivering up against the bark in-between sobs. He'd called out to her, but she didn't respond, not until he'd dared to step close. When he'd gotten right behind her, she'd softly asked him why he had to make his master so sad. 

That had startled him, and as he set a hand upon her shoulder, he'd asked her how she'd known.

When she'd finally turned her head to face him, he'd screamed; there was no "real" face there anymore, only raw, ravaged muscle with an empty eye socket, and her little stained teeth were bared at him. 

He'd released her shoulder and stumbled backwards in fright, but then she'd dropped to the ground and began to crawl towards him, her voice no longer normal but instead gurgling and rasping as she screamed, " _Why couldn't you just behave?! Why couldn't you learn your place and be a good boy, a_ ** _loyal_** _boy?!_ "

He'd woken up when her red, raw hand had darted out and grabbed his ankle in what had felt like a vice grip. He had to double-check his ankle to make sure there were no hand-shaped bruises there, at least, none other than the ones Ramsay had left the night before. 

Twenty minutes had passed since then and he was still shaking, his eyes constantly darting around between shadows. The previous dreams hadn't been like that one. The girl had never spoken to him, never even moved. She'd only laid there, sprawled in the mess of blood and looking just as she had when he'd seen the real thing the day before. They had been scary, but not as terrifying and cruel as this one had been.

What affected him most, though, was what she'd hissed to him about how he'd hurt his master, how she had implied that what had happened to her was all his fault. She didn't have to imply anything, he already knew. He knew her death was his fault, that the other possible deaths Ramsay had mentioned were his fault, too. He knew that if he had just been good, if he had just known his place, if he had bothered to stop being so careless and selfish, that none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be sitting here with a broken jaw and nightmares, and there wouldn't be the remains of an innocent girl buried out there in the woods. His wonderful, loving dogs wouldn't have him scared and avoiding them. He wouldn't have broken Ramsay's hard-earned faith in him. 

Theon sat up and peered over the foot of the bed at his master's sleeping form, and a pang of regret and guilt hit him hard in the chest. 

His master was right; those people were trying to hurt him. They were trying to punish him for something they didn't understand, something they had no business getting involved in, and Reek was just too stupid and emotional to realize this. He was selfish... how could he put those people, those strangers, above the safety of his beloved master? How could he have dared to do what he did? He hurt his master, both physically and emotionally with no excuses for it for either, and now Ramsay's trust in him was broken. His master was mentally-fragile, he knew that. He knew that, and yet he'd still dared to be so disrespectful, so violent, so... Theon. 

His lip quivered and a tiny whimper died in his throat. He felt terrible, and he wanted so badly to make it up to his Ramsay, he couldn't bear to let the other man go on distrusting and hating him. 

He crawled around to the left side of the bed on all fours, collar tag gently jingling. The sound brought him slight comfort and helped to clear his head a little as he tried to figure out what he could do. He couldn't speak, at least, not well and clear, and he felt too dumb to try and reason with the other man or to figure out a way to make himself truly trustworthy once more. 

Theon just wanted to show his devotion. He wanted to show his master his love and loyalty, how submissive he really was. He wanted to prove to Ramsay that he really was his Reek, always and forever.

After a moment, he quietly slipped out of all his clothing save for the collar, and he sat shivering on the floor trying to figure out what to do next. Then it hit him, and he moved to the nightstand where he pried the drawer open slowly, silently. 

Unbeknownst to him, Ramsay was wide awake and watching him with a curious, squinted gaze. 

That last nightmare of Theon's had woken him up. The boy's little mewls of terror and following loud gasp brought him out of his own sleep, and he'd been trying to get back to it since. That is, until his busy little pet caught his attention. He wondered what his Reek was up to with his staring and fretting, then his undressing and his digging around in the nightstand. Was he going to try and shoot Ramsay again? Possibly, the gun was back in the drawer and ready to go. 

Theon paid little mind to the pistol there, though, his fingers only brushing against the cool metal briefly as they reached further in to grab at the little bottle of lubricant stashed away in there. He pulled it out and saw there was still plenty of lube in inside as it didn't get used very often, and when it did it was usually in minimal amounts. He was going to use more than his fair share now, not so much for his pleasure but more for his master's. He wanted to be more than ready so that he could properly please Ramsay, no delays if he could manage it. 

He stole another glance his master's way and saw the other man was still asleep, then uncapped the lube and poured some of the liquid onto his three remaining fingers. With a shaky exhale, he braced himself and slipped his hand between his thighs, his wet fingertips brushing and prodding against his hole. 

He bowed his head as a deep blush crept over his cheeks, suddenly feeling self-conscious. His master was asleep, but he couldn't help the shy feelings and slight embarrassment still taking him over. 

The first finger entered him and he closed his eyes, huffing another little exhale through his teeth. As he started to slowly ride that finger, he let his mind fill with memories of their trip to the cabin, and he started to get a little aroused as he remembered how handsome and charming Ramsay had been, how attentive he'd tried to be with the ginger's needs. A soft moan escaped him.

Ramsay lay there, growing increasingly aroused and amused. Was his pet really pleasuring himself?? Was he really that needy after the trauma he'd suffered earlier in the day??To his knowledge, he couldn't remember the last time that Reek's pleasuring of himself actually happened without his master's command. 

It was hard to see in the dark, but the dim moonlight gave him enough of that lovely view, and even if he couldn't see at all he could still hear those tiny huffs and moans as clear as day. There was even a delicious little squeak when his pet's fingers had found his prostate, and the proceeding moans as said prostate was teased had Ramsay getting rock hard under the sheets. He was very, very tempted to pull Reek into bed with him and impale him on his dick right then and there.

He didn't have to, though, as Theon was already ahead of him. The little red-head felt satisfied that he was prepared enough, and then he took his other hand and gently pulled the blankets off Ramsay. He snatched the lube back up and crawled onto the bed, and he was happy to see his master was already very clearly aroused, his erection prominently tenting his underwear as he probably dreamed about something particularly filthy. 

With shaky hands, Theon freed his lover's cock, not noticing how Ramsay's breath seemed to hitch at the touch. He ducked down for a second to press an affectionate kiss to the tip, then sat back up and dribbled a little bit of the lubricant down over Ramsay's length. Slicking the other man up with slow, careful strokes, he glanced back up to see his master appearing to be asleep. Good, he didn't want to be interrupted, not before he could pay a proper "tribute". 

When Ramsay's cock was thoroughly slicked, Theon climbed into the bigger man's lap and straddled his hips, hovering as he attempted to place the tip right at his entrance. Without further delay, he sunk himself right down to the hilt, filling up and clamping tightly around Ramsay. 

Both men gasped, and Ramsay's eyes shot open as he bucked up into the heat around him and startled Theon. 

"'M sorry!" Theon said through his gritted teeth, and he tensed when Ramsay took hold of both his wrists. 

"Reek?" He sounded groggier than he looked. "What are you doing? You could have just asked me to fuck you. You  _should_ have asked me."

Theon sat there looking sheepish and maybe even a little ashamed of himself. After a moment, he murmured through his teeth, "I just wanted to apologize... I wanted to give myself to you because I didn't know how else to show my devotion. 'M sorry."

Ramsay eyed him for a minute. His pet wouldn't normally come pestering for sex like this, and the boy never really even touched himself anymore without prompting. He seemed genuine enough, maybe he really was trying to make amends in his own simple little Reek way?

 He released Theon's wrists and moved his arms up to fold them back behind his head as he relaxed into the sheets. 

"Well then, get on with it, little Reek."

His pet was more than happy to oblige. Anything to get in his master's good graces again... He set his forearms down on either side of Ramsay's chest and leaned in to press clumsy, wet kisses along the pale skin of his master's collarbone. Ramsay hummed pleasantly in response, and Theon began to lightly bounce his hips up and down along the length inside of him. 

It was a bit much, even with the prepping he did, as his skinny, bony fingers didn't quite match up with Ramsay's size, but this wasn't about him, it was about his master, so he didn't dare complain. Not that he would have, anyway. Besides, it was gradually feeling better and better, and he knew that it wouldn't be long before he was going to moan loud and pretty for his lover.

Ramsay groaned as Theon started to ride him, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to revel in those little kisses his pet kept planting on him. He liked this. He liked this a lot. His naughty little pet was trying so hard to prove his devotion, so much so that he was practically worshipping his master now. 

Good...

His big hands slipped out from under his head and moved down to Theon's waist, gripping them tightly to hold them in place as he ignored the previous pace and started to thrust up fast and hard. 

The deeper, more forceful rutting had Theon gasping in response, and he gave pitched little yelps with each buck. The boy pushed to sit upright in Ramsay's lap, his body in a lovely arch, and his split lips opened slightly as he began to breathe harder. His little nipples were stiff, and his scarred, goosebump-covered skin began to shine with sweat. His eyes were closed in concentration, but the pleasure was evident enough on his bruised face.

He was the loveliest... 

Ramsay slid a hand up along Theon's bare, slick torso and stopped at one of the larger scars on the younger man's chest, fingertips tracing over the raised skin, his nails scraping. The action drew a hitched breath out of Theon's lungs, and his pet pressed more insistently into the touch.

"That's it," Ramsay panted, voice husky and deep. "That's it. You're my Reek, aren't you? You belong to no one but me. You're mine, my Reek."

Theon gave a clumsy nod as he bounced, his own voice a rushed, breathy slur of a whisper. "Yes! Yes, gods, yes, master, 'm yours! Your Reek, only your Reek... 'm yours... 'm Reek... R-Reek, Reek, 'rhymes with seek... leek... meek... weak." 

He trailed off into his muffled little mantra, appearing as if he was in some sort of religious daze. In a way, he was. He was submitting himself completely to Ramsay Bolton, his master, his god, and if he knew how he'd give that man his soul, whatever was left of it. In that moment, as he came, it felt like his head had cleared itself, like his only thoughts were now of his master and no one and nothing else. He knew he would never be loyal to anyone else but Ramsay ever again. He knew he would always be meek, weak, and freak little Reek, and he would be a good, loyal, devoted boy from now until he was buried in the ground. Ramsay would never have to feel his betrayal ever again.

Ramsay seemed to sense his pet breaking, seemed to sense a change over-taking the smaller man, and with a heated growl he threw his head back into the pillows and thrust up one more time, burying his cock completely as he reached his climax. 

It was only when he felt like every drop was spent before he finally allowed himself to pull out, and he didn't even need to tell Theon to keep it all in. When his finger slipped between his pet's asscheeks, he felt that the slick, abused hole was already good and tight, and he groaned as it twitched with the effort.

"That's my good boy. You're so good, aren't you?" He purred.

Theon practically collapsed on him, a sob of relief rushing out of his throat as he bowed his head on his master's chest. "Yes!" He cried. "Yes, gods, 'm so good, I-I promise, I promise, master! 'M your good Reek!"

Ramsay set a hand in those sweaty red locks and began to lazily pet Theon. He blinked slow and yawned, nodding with a drowsy head. "Yes, you are. You'll never hurt me again, will you?"

Theon shook his head as grateful tears slid down his cheeks. "No. No, never, m'lord. Never again."

"Good." The petting ceased as Ramsay nudged Theon off himself and rolled over. "Get some rest, Reek. It's been a long day."

Theon's head bobbed as he moved his sore little body back down to the floor and crawled towards his nest. "Yes. Yes, it has. A long, long day, a very long day. I must get some sleep, I must do as master says, I must-"

"Reek. _Silence_."

Theon's lips clamped shut over the metal and bands. His head still buzzed with his clumsy chatter, but he said nothing more as he buried himself under one of his sheets and nestled like a tired dog. 

When he dreamed that night, there were no red muscles and no loud shrieks of pain and rage. There were only beautiful blue eyes and the soft, eerie calling of his name.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Ramsay had taken the frost-bitten, blackened toes and finger out of the little jar he'd been keeping them in, and he burned them until they were nothing but tiny bone-bits and grey ash. When that was done, he headed out for a daytrip to King's Landing, intent on speaking with a jeweler who could make a certain ring for him, maybe even two depending on how he was feeling by the end of the trip. He was very pleased with his Reek, so much so that he was almost certain there  _would_ be two rings rather than one that he would be taking home some day soon. 

While Ramsay was out, Theon spent the day at home, busying himself with whatever chores he could think of. He was exhausted from the day and night before, and even though his body just wanted to lie down on the couch and doze off, he ignored it and kept at his busywork until the house was spotless and smelled as clean as freshly-fallen snow. 

Try as he might, though, no matter how much cleaner he used, he still couldn't get the strong stench of copper out of his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any inaccuracies. I've never had a broken jaw - or any kind of broken bone for that matter! -, so I'm not quite sure how Theon's situation would have actually been handled. I hope it was believable enough, though, and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Thanks for reading. :>

**Author's Note:**

> First multi-chaptered fic I've written in a long, long, time, not to mention it's the first GoT-related fic I've ever written. I hope I'm doing at least fairly well, and I hope the characters aren't too off, but if they are, please let me know. I really want to get better at my writing!  
> Also, I'm sure you've at least skimmed through the tags, but I wanted to mention that this will not continue to be a very pleasant fic for much longer. I haven't decided whether or not it will have a happy ending, but I do know I plan to have parts of this be very violent, non-con, and, of course, uncomfortable. I may be adding more tags (and probably characters) along the way, but if I miss any that you think should be up there don't hesitate to tell me so that I can correct it.  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading!


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